


Love is a Mystery

by AuroraBorealia, LadyNorbert



Series: Skyhold Academy Yearbook [12]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Conventions, Disney References, Dragon Age References, Dungeons & Dragons Campaign, Dungeons & Dragons but with a different name, F/M, Field trips, Let's Play, M/M, Pregnancy, Sequel, Singing, Varric Tethras as Game Master, Video game convention, part of a series, video games - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:35:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 54,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21889024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraBorealia/pseuds/AuroraBorealia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyNorbert/pseuds/LadyNorbert
Summary: Another year of shenanigans at Skyhold Academy brings everything from video game conventions to tabletop RPGs to, of course, singing. But what other things await the teachers (and students) at the best school ever as they await the arrival of a new little member? Come find out here in Part Twelve of the Skyhold Academy Yearbook series!
Relationships: Bethany Hawke/Varric Tethras, Cremisius "Krem" Aclassi/Original Character(s), Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan, Fenris/Female Hawke, Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, Male Lavellan/Cassandra Pentaghast
Series: Skyhold Academy Yearbook [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/725397
Comments: 16
Kudos: 14





	1. Unconventional

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all and happy holidays!! Wow, these past few months have been very busy and very hectic for me and LadyNorbert - we apologize for the delay in posting stories as various life things got in the way. But we wanted to come back with some updates before the end of the year as a holiday treat for all of you! We love and appreciate you all so much, and are so grateful for your continued enthusiasm for this series. <3
> 
> Chapter one is a bit of a set-up for shenanigans that will be happening in later chapters; chapter two (also coming very soon) will be the much anticipated D&D game that we referenced on our Discord server as well as on Tumblr, so stay tuned for that! As usual, thank you all so much for reading! We hope you enjoy this chapter and rest assured, we have A LOT more fun planned for the rest of this story and for more stories coming soon!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer at Skyhold Academy brings about a new announcement - an upcoming video game convention that captures the interest (and imaginations) of the whole school. Meanwhile, Varric is inspired to run a tabletop RPG game which leads to plans being hatched. Basically, business as usual at the best school ever.

* * *

**Unconventional**

* * *

With graduation complete, the summer began as most did in Skyhold - with the promise of a new adventure. This one was in the form of a gaming convention being held in Denerim. Such a thing would have been exciting enough for the students that it would have been considered as a possible activity to help fill their empty summer schedules. However, when it came to be known that Solas had been invited to speak (as his Let’s Player alter ego the Dread Wolf, of course), it was practically a foregone conclusion.

“How are you going to pull this off, Solas?” Mahanon asked curiously, when the subject came up in the staff room. “I thought part of your mystique was never letting your face be seen in your videos.”

“Yes, I’ll admit the invitation surprised me for just that reason, among others,” Solas replied. “But I have given it some thought. I’ve been considering a mask, perhaps shaped like a wolf’s head. Provided I can get one custom-made from one of the shops in Val Royeaux in time, that is.”

“Leave that to me,” Michel assured him. “I can pull some strings.”

“And is our entire student body going with you?” asked Varric, amused. “I know that if Jim and Doug don’t get to attend that convention, they might have some kind of breakdown.”

There was a general chuckle at the truth of such a statement. “ _I’ve_ been giving _that_ some thought myself.” It was Leliana who answered. “I know many of the students are very excited by the prospect of going to a gaming convention, so I thought it might indeed be a good field trip for them - and, of course, for any of our recent graduates who want to tag along as well.”

“Well, you’re going to need more than one chaperone, then,” said Mahanon. “Especially if that one is going to be busy being a mysterious celebrity. What’s that expression the kids use? I volunteer as tribute?”

Another chuckle. “Well, if you’re going, I suspect I’ll need to come along to chaperone you,” Cassandra teased. “If that’s all right, I’ll volunteer as well.”

“You can leave Anthony with us, if you don’t want to bring him along,” Evvy offered. “I think Cole is trying to learn the secret language the babies use, he’ll help us watch them so he can study it.”

“A noble goal if ever there was one,” Cass replied with a smile. “Thank you, that would be excellent.”

“If you’re willing, I would be glad to have you go along, Cass,” Leliana said. “And I would love two or three more chaperones at least if it’s possible.”

At this, Bethany, who had been sitting quietly next to Varric, suddenly looked over at him. “Say, dear, why don’t you go along?”

“What? Leave you in this condition?” Varric blinked. “You’re not serious?”

“Sweetheart, you’d be going to Denerim, not off to war,” she pointed out, lips twitching slightly. “I would be completely fine. It might be nice for you to go enjoy a day out.”

“Yes, but… still.” He paused, and frowned. “Oh, Andraste’s ass. I’m Cullening again, aren’t I?”

She smiled fully at that. “A bit, yes.”

“Hey,” Cullen protested, although his face showed that he was mostly amused.

“Be proud, Curly. It’s not everybody who gets to be a verb.”

Bull snickered. “Let me translate. Varric, you’re driving your wife nuts. Go away for a little while and let her breathe.”

“No, no, he’s not driving me nuts,” Bethany said, still smiling as she patted his hand. “Our dear Skyhold expectant fathers just have a tendency to… Evvy, help me out, what’s the word I’m looking for?”

“Smother.”

“Well, yes. But in the most loving way possible.” She kissed his cheek. “In all seriousness, though, I’ll be fine. Really.”

“I’ll be staying,” Evvy added, smiling at Varric’s disgruntled look. “And since I’ve been where Bethany is, at least in most respects, you know I’ll take good care of her.”

“Don’t doubt you for a second, Siren, but you’ll have to excuse me for being nervous.” He shrugged. “All right, I know when I’m beaten. Off to the nerd collective it is.”

“Thank you, Varric, I’m sure the students will appreciate the sacrifices you are making,” Leliana said with a smile. “I’ll make the announcement at breakfast tomorrow and anyone who would like to sign up can do so.”

“Next question - how are you getting there?” asked Blackwall.

“Well, we could take the train,” Varric mused, “but maybe it would just be easiest to take one or two of the school vehicles - the chaperones can take turns driving. I guess it’ll depend on how many kids want to go.”

“That’s not a terrible idea,” said Josephine. “And if we need to, I’m sure we could rent a few small passenger vans. But I will cross such a bridge if and when we come to it.”

“All right, if it’s in the capable hands of Ruffles, we know it’s going to be handled with ruthless efficiency,” said Varric, seeming more at ease. “Any other concerns? Questions? Snacks?”

“I don’t think I have any of the above, but if a snack were being _offered_ …” Bethany chuckled.

“What would you like?” her husband immediately asked.

“Hmm.” She considered this. “Something sweet. Surprise me.”

“Back in a bit. While I’m up, anyone else want anything?”

“No, no, I think I can safely speak for all of us when I say your wife’s request is more important than anything we could want,” said Dorian, who looked entirely too amused by the entire proceedings. “But thank you.”

“Suit yourself. You might be sorry when I come back with an entire box of cupcakes and only Sunshine gets them.” With a wink for her, Varric left the room in search of the requested surprise.

“So level with us, Beth,” said Bull. “ _Is_ he driving you crazy?”

“Well… I don’t know if I’d say _crazy_ per se, but…” She held her thumb and her forefinger close together. “Is that very terrible to say?”

“It’s natural enough,” Evvy assured her. “And it’s hard to blame him, since you’re in a delicate condition even when you aren’t expecting. I can’t fault you for wanting a break though.”

“And I really do think it will do him some good to get out for a bit and enjoy himself,” she said. “But yes, a break really does sound lovely too.”

“He’ll probably bring you back all sorts of ridiculous souvenirs,” Josephine noted with a giggle. “Ah well. It’s sweet.”

“It is,” she said fondly. “I just don’t want him to wear himself out - we still have several months to go, after all.”

“What’s the worst thing he’s done so far?” asked Hawke, amused. “I’m assuming he’s even worse when you’re by yourselves.”

“I don’t know if there’s a single worst thing.” Bethany laughed. “It’s sort of cumulative really - he’ll build on the previous day’s doting.”

“I knew it.” Her sister was faintly smug. “I called it when you first broke the news - I told these guys that when his shock wore off he was going to get weird.”

“You and Evvy will have to compare notes, Bethany,” said Dorian. “That way we can determine who among us wins in our ongoing bet of who is worse - Varric or Cullen?”

“I say again, hey,” Cullen objected. “I’m sitting right here.”

“And you’re a model father, dear,” Evvy assured him. “But a woman needs to breathe, and you did have a _tiny_ tendency to forget that now and again.” She gave him a fond smile. “It was from a place of love, and I knew it. Bethany knows it too.”

“Exactly.” Bethany smiled. “So I’m counting on those of you who remain behind to help me enjoy myself as best I can. And I’m counting on those of you who are also going to this convention to make sure Varric doesn’t worry _too_ much.”

“I think we can do that,” said Mahanon, nodding. “These things are usually so packed with things to do, we might be able to distract him at least occasionally. Maybe we can make him the ‘Dread Wolf’s bodyguard’ or something, he should get a kick out of that.”

Bethany laughed again. “That sounds marvelous, thank you. I’m sure it will be a lovely day for everyone.”

“It’s a full weekend, actually,” said Solas. “Are you sure you don’t mind him being gone that long?”

She looked around for a moment, as if making sure Varric was not in earshot, then nodded. “Oh, more than sure.”

“Ooh, I’m telling,” Hawke teased her.

Bethany playfully wrinkled her nose at her, giggling as she did so. “Cheeky sister. Although that raises the question - are you going along or staying here?”

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “It would be fun to go, but if we both leave you, Varric might panic. Let’s wait and see how many chaperones are needed.”

“You raise a good point. We’ll see - perhaps I can talk him down. It might be nice if you’re there to help him have fun, but I do understand why he would want you to stay behind and police me,” she joked.

“Maybe we could have a sort of convention warm-up,” Bull suggested. “That way people who don’t go can get a taste of the thing, see if it’s something they’d like to do some other time.”

“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea,” said Cullen. “I would assume there will be video games there, since Solas was invited to speak, but do they have any other things going on? Other games and such?”

“I can get the full itinerary for everyone to review, if you’re so inclined.” Solas sounded rather entertained. “Conventions of this sort usually have panels - that is, presentations on a variety of topics, and convention attendees visit the ones which interest them. They discuss video games, television shows, films, that sort of thing. There’s also usually a gaming room of some sort, if not two; sometimes they have one for video games and another for tabletop gaming.”

“This definitely sounds like something our students would enjoy,” Josephine noted, then smiled. “It also sounds like this is not your first time with such a thing, Solas.”

“I have been fortunate enough to acquire a wealth of experiences in my time,” he replied serenely.

A few people chuckled. “The enigma continues,” Dorian joked. “Well, I’m sure your expertise in this particular field will be most useful. Perhaps if this little warm-up proves popular, it could become a school club or something similar.”

“What do you mean by tabletop gaming, though?” asked Blackwall. “Like, board games?”

“Sometimes. But some conventions will host tabletop roleplaying games as well. You know, like _Gatehouses and Ghouls_ or similar.”

“ _Gatehouses and Ghouls_?” Josie repeated.

“It’s a bit tricky to explain,” he said with a small chuckle. “Essentially, you create a character for yourself, as do the other players, and the game master - the individual controlling the game - directs your characters on an adventure. It’s a bit chance-oriented; outcomes of certain decisions are decided by dice rolls.”

“And I would assume there are gatehouses and ghouls involved?”

“Among other details. It depends on the adventure the game master has created for the occasion.”

“I’ve heard of the game, but I’ve never played,” Hawke remarked. “Might be fun to learn.”

“Learn what?” Varric appeared in the doorway, looking curious. “The bakery in Redcliffe finally installed a drive-thru,” he added, presenting a box to Bethany.

She gave a little gasp of delight. “Aww, thank you, dear, you didn’t have to go to all this trouble,” she said, accepting the offering. “Anyway, to answer your question, we were talking about having a little warm-up event before the actual convention. Solas was telling us about _Gatehouses and Ghouls._ ”

“Oh, do kids still play that? I thought that was only for old people like me.” He chuckled. “Haven’t done that in ages.”

“I didn’t know you played,” Hawke said thoughtfully. “You know, the kids would probably have a blast if you moderated a game for them as part of this pre-event event.”

“Hmm. I suppose I could put something together,” he mused. “It’s been a while, I’ll need to pick up some updated materials - but it shouldn’t be too hard. Being a game master is just another way of telling a story. Anybody who wants to play, let me know and I’ll get things going.”

“Well, I would be willing to bet I can guess some of your student players.” Hawke chuckled. “And I want to play too. I already have a few ideas.”

“Sounds like fun. And yeah, if at least two-thirds of the Partners in Crime don’t sign up, I’ll be disappointed.” Varric laughed. “Siren? Curly? You think Cole would be up for this?”

“That’s a good question,” said Cullen. “I imagine he’d have a lot of fun with it - making a character, getting to be a part of a narrative. Plus if his friends join, which I imagine they will, that would make it better. We’ll ask him.”

“Give me a couple of days to get the updated books and things, and get familiar with the setup again. I’m rusty. But once I’ve got an idea for what I’m doing, we’ll issue a general invitation.”

“Excellent.” Hawke rubbed her hands together. “I look forward to it. I’m sure the students will too.”

“What else should we offer for warmup activities?” asked Leliana. “I know that a lot of people do costuming for these events.”

“Oh, I would be happy to help anyone who wants to make a costume,” Bethany said brightly. “I have supplies I can lend out and if anyone needs me to sew or adjust or what have you, it would be my pleasure.”

“Just as long as you don’t overdo it and tire yourself out,” Varric said warily. “At least I know you can do the sewing stuff while sitting down.”

“We’ll have to see what kind of costumes they want to make, but maybe just a generalized sort of introduction to sewing would be good,” Leliana mused. “Give them some ideas. You were considering starting a club or something to that effect before the happy news, so this could theoretically lead to that.”

“That would be wonderful.” Bethany nodded, then laughed. “Summer at Skyhold Academy is certainly never dull.”

“No season is dull around here, Sunshine. Thought you knew that by now,” her husband joked. “How are the brownies?”

“Just perfect,” she assured him. “And please, everyone, feel free to take a few. I can’t eat them all myself, after all.”

“Oh, no, they’re not allowed,” said Varric. “I offered to bring them something and they all said no, and I’m sure they had some funny things to say about me when my back was turned. So those are all yours.”

“Sorry, all, I tried,” she said with a laugh, shrugging at the others.

“As if we would take desserts away from a pregnant woman. Give us a little credit.” Bull chuckled.

“Smart man, enabling my bad behavior,” she teased. “Anyway, let me know how many students might need some costume help and I will make sure I’m free. It already sounds like a lot of fun.”

“Guess I’ll head down to the bookstore tomorrow to look for the game stuff,” Varric added. “Anybody want to go for a motorcycle ride?”

“I would love to,” said Bethany. “Provided my husband is willing to let me out of the castle.” She gave him a grin.

He gave a put-upon sort of sigh. “Oh, I don’t know. That kind of goes against the whole ‘beauty and the beast’ thing we have going on here.”

“We all really do embrace that vibe, don’t we?” She laughed. “Well, what if I promise to take the magic mirror along?”

“I guess it’ll be all right. You probably shouldn’t be doing that for too much longer, so we’ll get you out while it’s still reasonably safe.”

“Exactly.” She kissed his cheek. “A last little hurrah, so to speak.”

Hawke glanced at the others. “Anybody else want to say it? I know we’re all thinking it.”

“So cute it’s stupid?” Cullen ventured.

“That was it, yup. You’ve been supplanted.”

He shook his head, glancing at Evvy. “Do you hear that, my darling? We’ve been supplanted as the resident overly adorable couple. Whatever shall we do?”

“Celebrate?” she guessed, netting a few laughs.

“You have not been supplanted, Curly,” Varric insisted. “I’m just a lovable grouch, I could never top you for sheer syrup.”

“Well, thank you, I think.” He chuckled.

“It’s a compliment. Mostly.” Varric winked.

Bethany giggled. “You know, it’s a shame you’re going along on the trip, Cass - otherwise we could all gossip about our husbands behind their backs,” she said teasingly.

“Don’t tempt me to stay home,” Cass replied with a smile. “Cullen, are you going, then?”

“I don’t mind in either direction, really,” he replied. “I’ll go wherever I’m needed - especially if you all want me out of your hair to gossip.” He shot them a playful glare.

“You know I’d miss you, darling,” said his wife gently. “But if you’d like to go, especially if Cole goes, I think that might be fun for you.”

“I’d miss you too. And do you think Skye would be all right if I did? I mean, it is a whole weekend…”

“She’d certainly be calling for Da to give ‘boobury,’” Evvy acknowledged, “but I think we’d manage. She’d have Anthony for company at least.”

“Hmm. Well, we’ll see how everything goes. Three chaperones might be more than enough, after all.”

“Is the convention in a hotel, Solas?” Josephine asked. “We’ll need to arrange lodgings for everyone who attends, if you’re going to be there for the entire weekend.”

“You can send me the bill, Ruffles, I’ll cover it,” Varric interjected.

“Generous as always.” Leliana smiled.

“And to answer the question, yes.” Solas nodded. “It’s held in a convention center. The hotel is connected.”

“Very well. I’ll need all of that information from you,” said Josephine, “and I’ll look into one or two other lodging possibilities - just in case they’re full for the event. Now, is there anything else you’ll need for this?”

“Other than accommodation and transportation, nothing really comes to mind. And those things will depend on a final headcount, of course. I will keep you up to date as things arise,” he promised.

“Very good. This should be delightful for everyone involved.” She chuckled. “Though it will be strange for those of us who remain here, I think.”

“Perhaps a little, yes,” Dorian noted. “Although I’m sure we can find something equally entertaining to do. And perhaps one of our students would be so kind as to livestream Solas’s panel.”

“I’m sure we can find a volunteer,” said Varric. “Seamus, maybe.”

“We shall see. That would be fun.” Leliana likewise chuckled. “If he’s willing, we’ll have a little viewing party. And yes, we’ll find ways to occupy ourselves, I’m sure.”

* * *

Predictably, the student body was overjoyed by the announcement of the convention. Those who were fans of the Dread Wolf were the most excited, but there was an infectious delight that spread throughout the whole school. “Whether you attend or not,” Leliana told them, “we’re going to try our hands at a couple of convention activities right here at Skyhold, so everyone can at least have a taste. It’s summer, so all of this is entirely optional, but I know Skyhold and I know all of you,” she added. “We’ll have fun.”

Both students and teachers alike laughed at her statement and chattered approvingly. “Those of you who are interested in attending, come to my office no later than Tuesday,” Josephine added, raising her voice a bit to be heard over the buzz of excitement. “There will also be sign-up sheets posted for the in-school activities we have planned, so don’t forget to sign up for those as well.”

In addition to Varric’s tabletop game and Bethany’s costuming class, Solas had commandeered one of the less-used study rooms to arrange a number of video game consoles for tournament play. Dorian had researched the matter and learned that some conventions had started offering quiet reading rooms for attendees to decompress, so he reasoned the library would simply operate as usual for the same sort of purpose. He also learned, however, that concerts were a usual part of such gatherings as well, and so the karaoke equipment would be broken out in the great hall one evening.

“If this goes well, Skyhold could hold its own convention someday,” he said, laughing at his own suggestion. “Can you imagine? That would be an entirely different level of glorious madness.”

“Maker, you’re not wrong,” Cullen agreed cheerfully. “We really do have all the components covered between the lot of us - we even have plenty of artists on hand, we could have a dealer’s room.” He smiled in his wife’s direction.

She laughed. “Actually, that’s an amusing thought - the kids could make stuff to sell to each other. Maybe next year we can do some kind of combination of a convention and a reunion, bring back the graduates again. That was delightfully chaotic.”

“‘Delightfully chaotic’ is a good description of it. And you know, if anything could top the Skyhold Academy reunion bouncy castle, it would be a Skyhold Academy reunion convention,” he joked.

“Do you suppose we should get the bouncy castle again for this practice convention, or whatever we’re calling it?” she countered, smiling.

“I think that could be a lot of fun,” he returned, deliberately glancing over in Dorian’s direction.

“No,” the resident party planner remarked, not looking up.

“But I’m sure the students would love it.”

“ _No_.”

“We’ll save it for reunions, then,” said Evvy soothingly. “When the President is here. I think he enjoyed it more than anyone, except maybe Bull.”

“There is that.” Dorian chuckled, relenting. “For this event, at least, I think we have plenty planned.”

“Did Varric get his stuff for that game?” Bull wanted to know. “I was thinking I might play.”

“As far as I know, yes,” said Hawke. “And I’m sure he would be happy to add you to the roster - the more the merrier, after all.”

“What sort of character were you thinking of trying, Bull?” Evvy asked. “One of those hulking barbarians in chain mail or something?”

“Nah, I’d want to play against type probably. You know, just for the fun of it. I’ll talk to Varric later and see what might fit the bill. How about you, Hawke? Give it any thought?”

“Oh, my character is a surprise,” she said, smirking.

“I may have to attend this game just to see the surprise.” Evvy laughed. “Dorian, will Felix be filming the kids, or just taking pictures for the yearbook?”

“A bit of both, I suspect. Some of the tournaments and the karaoke really do deserve to be preserved in film.” He chuckled.

“Have there been many sign-ups for the actual trip?” Hawke asked.

“At last check, we’ve had about twenty current and former students sign up,” Josephine reported. “They still have a few more days if anyone else would like to join in.”

“And how many chaperones does that translate to needing?”

“Well, we have three at the moment - not counting Solas - so six or seven students to each chaperone isn’t bad. If anyone else wishes to come along, of course, all the better, but I don’t imagine it will be imperative.”

“No, that’s not bad,” Hawke agreed. “It could be better, but it’s not bad. Hey, maybe Krem could be persuaded to go, he could technically be a chaperone.”

“Now that’s a very interesting idea,” said Josie. “I’ll see what he thinks. I know Rory is going - the recent graduates are still eligible for field trips as long as they remain in the castle, after all - so I imagine it won’t be _too_ hard to persuade him.” She smiled a little.

“Yeah, that should be all it takes.” Bull laughed. “Although Rory’s a graduate, so technically she doesn’t need a chaperone either, does she?”

“Technically speaking, no,” said Leliana. “Although I would be more comfortable with the recent graduates having someone to watch over them regardless,” she added with a chuckle.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine - Skyhold students are good - but it definitely can’t hurt to have a few extra eyes,” Josephine agreed. “Especially if Varric really does act like a bodyguard for Solas at times.”

“Solas receiving a rock star welcome is still a mental imagine that makes me laugh,” Hawke remarked. “Even more amusing is the idea that Varric would be playing bodyguard. I hope there are pictures if that be the case.”

“We’ll assign someone to be their personal paparazzi,” said Bull, laughing.

“Luckily we have a few amateur ones on hand,” Dorian joked. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a library to tidy ahead of our little event.”

“How much tidying can it possibly need?” Evvy protested, laughing.

“It needs enough. If it’s to be a tranquil reading space, certain conditions need to be met - I might fetch a few more chairs, pull a few of the most popular volumes, that sort of thing. You know how I am, dear, my library must be perfect at all times for all occasions.”

“I do know how you are, which is why it surprises me to think the library is anything less than immaculate,” she teased. “Do you need a hand?”

“Only if you have nothing pressing that requires your attention. I’ll never say no to the assistance of my Cinderella.”

“Well, as Skye is currently in the hands of her favorite parent,” Evvy joked, “I think I’m free for a little while. Lead the way.”


	2. Roll For Initiative

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Varric's game of "Gatehouses and Ghouls" begins! Join Hawke, Bull, Josephine, and the Partners in Crime and co. as their characters go on an adventure to take back a relic from a dragon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is at last - Skyhold Academy D&D night!! We had fun with this one and we hope you enjoy it just as much as we do. There may even be more Skyhold D&D fun down the road, but you didn't hear that from me. ;)
> 
> This will probably be the last update until after New Year's, so allow me to say - thank you guys for making 2019 another year full of squees and shipping and fellowship. We hope you have a wonderful, safe, restful holiday season and we will be bringing you more Skyhold Academy Yearbook goodness very, very soon! Happy holidays!

* * *

**Roll for Initiative**

* * *

It was about a week later that Varric convened his role-playing game. He’d had enough time to reacquaint himself with the rulebook and come up with an adventure for those who were playing, and the entire day was to be devoted to story. They gathered in his classroom, where the desks had been arranged in a fashion that would enable everyone to see and participate with ease, and the first hour was devoted to letting the players create their characters.

“All right,” he said at last, “if everyone’s done, please give me the sheets with your character statistics on them, and we’ll have everyone introduce themselves. You all meet in the local tavern, because that’s where every good stock adventure starts. You recently saw a poster advertising that someone was looking to put together a team for a special mission, and you’ve come to learn more about it and maybe sign up. Bishop,” he continued, nodding at Jim on his right, “you start by telling everyone about your character.”

All three of the Partners in Crime were in attendance, each of them looking more excited than the next and all three of them having clearly put a lot of thought into their characters. Jim started off by describing his human fighter who was paying his way through knight training by working for a noble family.

“That’s very good. I think he’ll get a lot of experience from joining this mission.” Varric nodded. “What about you, Tiny?”

“I’m playing an elf,” said Bull. “She’s a trained assassin who specializes in dual wielding knives, and she’s a redhead, because I like redheads. She also spouts weird philosophies at random times. I call her Sillat.”

“I met someone like that once,” Hawke mused. “Anyway, I want to go last, so go ahead, Nessa.”

Nessa’s character was a human magic-wielder, specializing in water magic, who longed for adventure. Rory, who had a veritable novel of papers comprising her character’s backstory, was smiling from ear to ear as she described her own character.

“My character is a half-elf,” she explained. “Her father is a handsome golden-haired elf who loves to read and has an amazing singing voice, while her mother is a beautiful human woman who is curious about the world around her and draws the natural landscape whenever she can. They had a chance meeting and quickly fell in love and…” She looked over at Jim, who was grinning. “Jimmy, why are you looking at me like that?”

“Is your character named Skye, by any chance?” he teased. “You just described Professor and Mrs. Rutherford as your parents, girl.”

She blushed a little. “What? No. You don’t know what you’re talking about, shush,” she mumbled, tugging at her ear.

Krem, who was sitting quietly nearby, chuckled. “It’s okay, babe. What is her name, then?”

She coughed a little, still pink. “Ella.”

Varric glanced at Josephine, who had a hand over her mouth so Rory wouldn’t see her smile, and winked. “What about you, Ruffles? Who are you bringing to the party?”

“His name is Namud,” she replied, “but he’s also known as Cloud Gazer. He’s seven feet tall and is a barbarian from the highlands, who specializes in healing techniques and fights with a giant maul.”

“Wow! That’s the last thing I was expecting, but I love it,” said Rory. “Everyone is playing against type today. Well, except me. I always play to type.” She chuckled.

“Cole?” Varric gave him a nod.

“My character is a spirit,” he said, blinking at them with his big pale eyes. “He was drawn into the world by all the pain of the people living in it, and he tries to help. He’ll protect the adventurers as much as he can.”

“Huh. I know that playing spirits is an option, but I didn’t expect anyone to take it,” the game master admitted. “Sounds good, kid. All right, Krem Puff, you’re up.”

Krem was playing a human warrior like Jim, but his character was part of a mercenary company and was branching out looking for new work. He also had a tragic backstory about which the character was apparently going to be very tight-lipped throughout the game. Being able to discuss it with him would take great effort; slaying dragons would probably be involved, that’s how difficult it would be.

“I already think he’s amazing,” Rory said with a smile.

“Romances between characters are permitted,” Varric noted mildly. “Doug? Seamus? Who wants to go next?”

Doug took his turn, describing his serious bard, followed by Seamus, who was playing the son of the family Jim’s character was serving. Their motivations were coin and adventure respectively and they both had secrets in their backstories that would be revealed as the story unfolded, apparently.

“So many secrets,” said Varric, amused. “Speaking of which, that just leaves you, Hawke - what’s this amazing creation you’ve been saving for us?”

Hawke looked almost too smugly self-satisfied to be endured. Grinning, she leaned forward dramatically. “Okay, well, my character is also a bard. In fact, he’s based out of the very tavern where everyone is meeting. He spends his days hanging out in this tavern and singing songs about the antics of the local hero, and nobody can tell whether or not any of what he’s singing is true. He’s a dwarf with an excessive love of pastries and he has a crush on the hero’s sister.” Her grin widened. “His name is Eric Bathras.”

A ripple of laughter cascaded through the room. “Hey, just like Detective Eric from our senior project noir stories,” said Rory, covering her mouth with her hand as she giggled.

“A certain writing teacher may have let me read that senior project,” Hawke admitted, still grinning.

Varric narrowed his eyes at her, lips twisting in a concerted effort not to smile. “He sounds like the greatest character who ever was,” he retorted. “I’ll bet his songs are incredibly popular. All right, so you all meet in this tavern, where an excessively handsome and debonair man is looking to recruit some adventurers to go on a quest. ‘I assume that you all understand this will be dangerous, but if you’re brave and clever, you can become very rich. What I need from all of you is to infiltrate the neighboring kingdom of Sidonia. There’s a dragon there which has stolen a priceless relic belonging to our good King Alexander, and your assorted skills will enable you to bring it back.’ The gentleman is tall and dark haired, with sparkling light eyes and a taste for fine brandy.”

Rory gave a squeal of delight. “Ooh, sorry. I mean, uh…” She cleared her throat, trying to get into character. “Tell us more about this relic. And this dragon…”

* * *

They broke for lunch at the usual hour, by which time they had learned about the dragon (“Roughly the size of a house cat, but if you picked him up you’d be instantly fried by the lightning in his blood”) and the relic (“The ancestral scepter of his house, a significant symbol of Alexander’s right to rule, and also works as a rolling pin in a pinch”). The adventurers were starting to become better acquainted, Rory’s character _clearly_ had a crush on Krem’s, and Josephine’s barbarian had a very high charisma stat and was turning out to be a bit of a magnet for attraction, with at least one person hitting on Namud in every village along the way.

“When we come back,” said Varric, “I have someone coming to meet the group. Who is it? What do they want? You’ll have to wait and see.”

“Ooh, I cannot wait!” Rory clapped her hands together in delight. “This whole thing is _awesome._ ”

“Glad you’re enjoying, Sonnet. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find that hero’s sister and see if she’s hungry.” Varric grinned and headed off in search of Bethany.

Her costuming class was set up in one of the home ec classrooms and she was busy stitching some hidden pockets into a costume when Varric arrived. “Hi, you,” she said cheerfully, looking up as he entered. “How’s your game going?”

“Your sister is playing _me_ ,” he replied, laughing. “Tell me this isn’t the funniest thing you can picture. She’s playing me as a dwarf with a crush on the local hero’s sister.”

Bethany laughed as well, clapping her hands together. “Oh, that’s _amazing_! I knew she had something up her sleeve with her character, but I had no idea she had _that_ up her sleeve.”

“I’ll get her back, somehow.” He grinned, however. “Everybody seems to be having fun. I’ll tell you about it over lunch - it’s time to eat.”

“Sounds great. Let me just finish this and I’ll be right with you - how to hide pockets in your costume is proving to be a very popular lesson.”

“I could stand a few hidden pockets in my clothes too,” he said. “Best way to sneak presents for my wife.”

“Aww.” She beamed. “Aren’t you sweet? I’m sure I could make that happen if you really wanted it.” She chuckled.

“I _am_ a charming and dashing rogue, Sunshine, it sort of goes with the territory.” He took a seat to wait for her.

“Well, that is true,” she returned, smiling as she returned to her sewing. Within a few minutes, she completed her task. “And there we go,” she said, holding up the piece. “What do you think?”

“Brilliant as ever, Milady Sunshine. Now let’s go feed my kid.” He stood and offered her a hand.

She laughed and accepted it, settling in next to him. “So, I’m excited to hear all about the adventure you’ve planned and what characters everyone made. Tell me everything.”

“Well, let’s see…” Over sandwiches he regaled her with the details of the story thus far. “I’m only maybe a fifth of the way into what I’ve got planned for them, but I’ve made a few changes to the outcome based on the characters they’ve given me,” he concluded.

“Only a fifth? Maker!” She laughed. “It sounds marvelous. I love their characters - who would have thought Josephine would play a barbarian? Or Bull play an elf? It’s great.”

“It is. So… tell me about this hero’s sister that Hawke’s character has a crush on.” Varric smirked. “I have a little something cooked up for after lunch, and I’d welcome your input.”

“Well, let’s see…” She tapped her fingers together in thought. “Ever since the hero saved the day, the hero’s sister has been a lot more visible, being secondhand famous and whatnot.” She chuckled. “But she helped the hero plenty using… hmm… using her magic! Ooh, yes, I like that. But nowadays, she can usually be found designing pretty dresses more than blasting bad guys.”

“Oh, so she’s a little mage, hm? I can work with that. And does she know the bard has a crush on her?”

“No, I don’t think she does. But she _hopes_ he does, because she has a crush on him too.” She grinned.

“That’s exactly what I needed to know.” He kissed her hand. “And with that, milady, I must return to my game master’s chair. I’ll let you know how it all works out.”

“Yes, please do! I can’t wait to hear all about it.” She waved. “Have fun.”

* * *

Varric returned to his classroom and waited for everyone else to join him. “I hope you’re all ready for more twists and turns,” he said. “I’ve got a lot of weird ideas and you’re going to get to hear them.”

“I think the fact that we came back is proof that we’re all enjoying your weird ideas,” said Hawke. “Incidentally, how’s the ‘hero’s sister’ doing? Not working too hard, is she?”

“Sitting down most of the time,” Varric assured her, “and she had a good lunch. She’s very impressed by all your characters and is looking forward to hearing more about their adventures.”

“And we’re looking forward to finding out what those adventures are,” said Josephine. “I must admit, I am having a marvelous time!”

“Glad to hear it, Ruffles. All right, when we broke for lunch I mentioned that someone was coming to join the group, which is currently encamped on the border of Sidonia. And that someone is…” He cleared his throat. “A woman with red hair approaches your group wearing a purple uniform. ‘Hello,’ she says, ‘my name is Ravenna, and I am the regional courier. I come bearing letters for everyone in your group!’”

“Oh, this ought to be good.” Hawke chuckled as herself. In character, she gave a nod. “Thanks, Ravenna. I know a lot of folks here miss home, so letters will be just the thing. Here’s a gold for your troubles, don’t spend it all in one place.”

“‘Ah, thank you, messere, mighty generous of you. But aren’t you the famous bard, Bathras? Your generosity is as well known as your songs.’ Ravenna then hands each member of the group a letter, saving him for last,” Varric added. “His letter is from the hero’s sister Annie, letting him know that she misses him and hopes he comes home soon.”

Hawke was grinning. “Of course it is and of course she does.” She chuckled. “Are we able to write replies or do we have to just content ourselves with reading the letters and sighing wistfully? I mean, waiting until we reach civilization again?”

“If you can write quickly, Ravenna can take your replies,” Varric said, gesturing grandly at her. “She’ll wait long enough to sit by your fire and eat something.”

“Perfect. Okay then, while everyone else is reading their letters, I retreat to a quiet corner and begin writing as fast as I can and have it still be legible - just a quick note to let Beth- I mean, Annie, know that I miss her too and will be home as soon as I possibly can. There’s probably also a quick and doubtless exaggerated story in there that I hope will make her laugh and a joke about my chest hair so she doesn’t suspect that being away from her is taking its toll on me. And then as soon as the ink is dry, I fold it up and take it back to Ravenna with another gold.”

“Very good.” Varric nodded seriously, trying his best not to laugh. “Anyone else want to send a reply to their letter? You can all decide for yourselves who wrote to you.”

“I would,” said Rory. “Mine is from my parents, of course, just saying they hope I’m all right. I’ll dash off a quick reply letting them know that everything is fine and that I’ve grown very close to my group and we all take good care of each other. That should be enough to keep them from worrying too much.”

“I have fan mail,” Josie improvised, laughing. “Cloud Gazer has a fan club back home and they sent him cookies. I share these with everyone and send back a thank-you note.”

“That is my favorite thing ever.” Nessa laughed too. “That fan club is probably going to pin his letter to the wall when they get it.”

“Probably. What about you, Bull? Who wrote to Sillat?”

“Sillat got a letter from her mentor.” They all knew from in-game conversations that the elf assassin had no family to speak of and that the man who had trained her in the ways of the assassin was really the only person that she trusted. “He encourages her to be strong and stay the course because eventually the tide wears away the mountain. Blah, blah, blah.” He laughed. “She writes him back with a whole bunch of similar weird platitudes. Because of course she does.”

“Does she have any philosophies that involve rabbits?” Cole wanted to know. “There should be more rabbits in stories.”

“For you, Kid, I think she can come up with some rabbit philosophies,” Bull assured him, ruffling his hair.

Cole looked delighted, and Varric chuckled. “Anyone else, before we move on to search for the scepter?”

Seamus and Jim’s characters likewise paused to write letters back to their families - Jim’s being an excited missive talking about how rewarding the adventuring life was so far while Seamus’s was more like an assurance to his family that he had made the right choice. These last letters were included with those already written and given to Ravenna.

“Right. So Ravenna takes your letters and your offering of gold coins and skips off on her merry way,” said Varric. “You rest a while longer before striking camp and setting off in search of the dragon’s lair. Roll for perception.”

* * *

Play went on for several minutes with the characters making their way in the direction of the hidden lair. They searched high and low for any sign of it or the dragon who guarded their coveted relic.

“I really hope we’re not going in circles or something,” said Nessa. “Do we know where we are? Is there any way to tell?”

“Check your sheets,” Varric said, “and see if anyone has a compass or a directional spell or anything like that.”

There was a brief rustling of paper as everyone looked over their sheets. At last, Seamus lifted his hand. “Ooh, yes! I have a compass with me.”

“Good! Okay, roll for perception and add it to your intelligence stat.” A few minutes later, they determined that they were heading due west. “You come across a small settlement, which includes a tavern where _another_ bard is singing about _another_ local hero.”

“I can’t decide if I’m offended that someone is taking my schtick or if I’m excited to meet a fellow artist,” said Hawke. “Although one thing is certain - this is definitely _not_ a dragon’s lair.”

“No, it’s not,” Varric agreed. “However, as you know better than most, local bards usually know things. So maybe it would be in the party’s best interest to try to make friends.”

“Well then, I say we should buy our new friend a drink,” said Bull. “After the song is over, of course.”

“Of course. I’d suggest that whoever has the highest charisma stat - which I believe is Cloud Gazer - be the one to actually invite the bard to join you,” said Varric. “Incidentally, the bard in question is a young human woman with black hair, and she tends to speak in a sort of rhyming pattern.”

“She’s a poet,” said Cole, looking pleased. “She talks like I do. I think it will be nice to make friends with her.”

“I agree,” said Josephine warmly. “All right, since my charisma is indeed the highest, I will approach her when her song is finished and begin talking to her about our adventures.”

“She finishes her song and looks quite amazed that you’re approaching her. ‘What may I do for you, messere?’” Varric adopted a funny sort of alto voice for the bard, which was rather different from the falsetto he had used for Ravenna.

“Greetings, friend,” said Josephine. Just as Varric adopted a higher voice, she adopted a lower one whenever she spoke as her character. “I am called Cloud Gazer. These are my companions. We are on a quest, much like the one you’ve been singing about.”

“‘Oh, how extraordinary,’ she says. ‘Perhaps I can be of some assistance. My name is Cadenza, and I know all of the regional legends. I might be able to give you some useful information.’”

“We would appreciate that very much and would be happy to buy you a drink for your troubles. Please, won’t you join us?”

“Also, I see what you did there with that name, Professor,” said Rory with a giggle. “Sorry, carry on.”

Varric winked at her. “Cadenza joins your table and introduces herself to the group. ‘What is your quest?’ she wants to know. Remember to do things like roll for perception to see if you detect anything weird in a given situation.”

“Right,” said Josephine. “I give her the basics of our quest - that we’re looking for a relic and are in search of a dragon’s lair - but I avoid getting too specific, at least for now.”

“Cadenza tells you that local legend speaks of _three_ dragons.”

“Yeah, okay, now I’m rolling for perception,” said Doug. “Something feels kind of off.”

Varric consulted the dice and the papers hidden in front of him, and nodded. “You can tell that the young minstrel is under an enchantment. She probably doesn’t know it, but she’s unable to give you concrete details about the dragon you want until that spell is broken.”

“Oh, snap.” This from Rory. “Okay, are we able to tell what kind of spell it is or how to break it? Do any of our magic users know what’s up with it?”

“Which of you are magic users again? Lyric, and… who else?”

“Just me, I think,” Nessa said. “Unless Cole’s spirit character has anything that can help us.”

“Let me look at your sheet, kid.” Varric examined the spirit’s details. “Yes, here it is. Your compassion folds into the magic stat and lets you detect that there is a magical leash holding Cadenza. It leads out of the tavern. It’s invisible to most people but it will guide you to the individual who has put the spell on her.”

“So we can follow it?” Cole asked. “We can follow it and help her?”

“Well, what does everyone else want to do?”

“I doubt we’ll be able to find the dragon’s lair on our own,” said Hawke. “And besides, we’re heroes, I don’t think we can just leave in good conscience knowing that this poor girl - and maybe others - are bound to some sort of strange magic. I think we have to figure out what’s going on.”

This seemed to be the general consensus, and Varric nodded. “Cadenza is a little frightened by the fact that you all want to leave her,” he said. “‘Surely one of you might stay, and… keep me company?’”

“Um… that sounds like it has all the hallmarks of a bad idea,” said Jim. “But I sorta feel bad for her too. I guess it’s also a pretty bad idea to take her along, right? That could get hairy.”

Varric chuckled. “Maybe the charismatic one could convince her to come along… roll for persuasion, Cloud Gazer.”

“Oh, dear, let’s see.” Josephine took her time shaking the dice in her hand, blowing on them for luck. “All right, adding in my bonuses, that comes to 15. Is that enough?” She bit her lip.

“Plenty, except that now Cadenza is seriously considering offering to have your children.” The game master winked. “She’ll pretty much go anywhere you want. Finish your drinks and we’ll take five in real life for a bathroom break for anyone who needs it, like me.”

Everyone laughed and as they drifted off to use the facilities or fetch snacks or other such things, those who remained at the table speculated about what might be going on.

“I never expected to get this invested,” said Josephine. “But I am dying to know what happens!”

“The others don’t know what they’re missing,” Bull agreed. “We might have to convince Varric to run another one of these for the teachers one of these days.”

“Oh, that would be marvelous!” Josephine said with a laugh. “And probably - what was the phrase Evvy used earlier? Delightfully chaotic? Probably that too.”

“I like how Professor Tethras has managed to work some of the other teachers into the story,” said Seamus. “Like the guy who set up our quest is obviously Professor Pavus, and I’m pretty sure Ravenna is Headmistress Nightingale.”

“I know, it’s so amazing!” Rory said. “I would love to see how many other cameos he could work in if we played more sessions with him as Game Master.”

“Well, if you all are enjoying it so much, I’ll bet he could be persuaded to do a regular game,” said Josephine. “Maybe a new club for the school.”

“That would be _such_ a fun club!” Rory enthused. “It could even be just a generic game club if this was too specific. I bet it would be super popular.”

“Let’s hold off on planning for Varric to create any new clubs,” said Hawke warily, “until _after_ my niece or nephew gets here.”

“Ooh, yeah, good point. Dad stuff takes priority after all. But it would be fun for down the line.”

Hawke relented, and smiled. “Now I’m picturing him rolling dice with one hand and holding a baby in the other,” she said, chuckling. “I just hope he doesn’t mix them up.”

Everyone laughed again. “Roll for diaper change,” Jim joked, which caused a fresh wave of chortling to spread through those still assembled.

“Parenthood - the real role-playing adventure,” Bull offered. “Here’s the spec sheet for Varric’s new character. He’s called Dad, and he has a bonus to bedtime storytelling.”

“Aww, that’s too cute,” said Rory. “I sort of feel like we should make a character sheet for him like that now, just for fun. He’d probably get such a kick out of it.”

“He would!” Hawke laughed. “Keep it in mind for the baby shower or something.”

“I like this plan. Maybe I can get the Poetry Club involved and it can be a gift from all of us. Plus any members of current company that want to be a part of it too, of course.” Rory was thoughtful. “Ooh, or maybe there can be two! Poetry Club can do one for ‘Dad’ and the members of our little company here can do one for ‘Baby Tethras.’”

“That’s adorable,” said Josephine approvingly. “I’m sure Varric and Bethany would both love it.”

“Awesome! I’ll bring it up at the next meeting. I mean, there’s plenty of time, of course, but it doesn’t hurt to get everyone thinking about it.”

“This has been such a good story,” Jim mused. “I hope he’s writing it down or something, for those who aren’t here to play.”

“I’ve got my notes,” said Varric, coming back into the room. “And I’ve been tape recording a lot of your decisions so I don’t forget them. I’ll see if I can type something up.” He ruffled Jim’s hair as he reclaimed his seat. “We’ll give the others another minute or two.”

Those present resumed their seats and waited, admittedly a bit impatiently, for the others to return. When at last everyone was assembled, they all turned to Varric.

“All right, when last we left our heroes, they were following that magic leash with the bard in tow,” said Hawke. “Also, she may or may not be in love with Cloud Gazer, but I digress.”

“Thank you for that.” Varric chuckled. “But to be fair, a lot of people may or may not be in love with Cloud Gazer, he’s just that kind of guy. So you leave the tavern…”

* * *

An hour or so later, Cadenza’s spell had been broken. The magical leash, as it turned out, was being held by a smooth-headed elf with piercing eyes and a pronounced dislike of shoes. The party didn’t kill him, but they were able to deactivate a nearby magical artifact which had supplied him with most of his evil powers, and he was forced to become a street performer in order to make a living. “So while the bald elf with no shoes resigned himself to pulling coins out of people’s ears and pretending to be trapped inside invisible boxes for the rest of his life,” said Varric, “Cadenza gratefully provided all of you with directions to the tiny lightning dragon’s cave.”

The entire party was in hysterics. “Huzzah!” Jim managed when he could finally breathe again. “We finally have the last piece of our quest! Now we just have to retrieve the relic and we’ll be renowned adventurers for good and all!”

“Yup, something like that,” Varric replied. “But Cadenza wants to know if you’d like her to continue being part of your group.”

“Uh…” Several of the players looked at each other, although it was Seamus who spoke. “Does she have combat training? And does she seem trustworthy now that she’s not under that spell or whatever?”

“An excellent question, Shutterbug. Roll for perception.”

“Ooh, Seamus has a nickname too! Welcome to the club.” Nessa chuckled.

He chuckled too, then rolled. “Okay, uh…” He consulted his sheet. “13.”

“You determine that she’s safe and no less trustworthy than any other bard. I’ll let you interpret that as you see fit. Cadenza is lightly armored and carries a bow, with which she has had some training.”

“Okay then. What do you think, team?”

“It can’t hurt.” Rory shrugged. “At least I think.”

“I’m agreeable. Cloud Gazer’s ego is certainly not hurt by her being there.” Josephine chuckled.

“All right then, let’s bring her along,” said Hawke. “Although as a bard myself, I know their tricks, so I’ll be watching her.” She chuckled too.

“Cadenza directs you to follow the main road until you come to a town called Harkstaven, then turn north…” The party bluffed its way through a bandit encounter and put down a mountain troll, and at last came to the tiny dragon’s lair. “The dragon is asleep. There is no treasure in sight, although there is a treasure _chest_ which is larger than the dragon itself.”

“Can we get to the treasure chest without waking the dragon?” Doug wanted to know. “And if so, can we check it for traps or enhancements before we try to open it?”

“Smart thinking, Jazz Hands. Everybody in the party roll for perception, and we’ll see if your sum total is higher than that of the dragon.”

“And Dougie has a nickname too.” Rory giggled.

“One of us, one of us,” Jim teased.

The entire party then rolled as instructed and once stats were added and the numbers combined, they were slightly shocked and delighted to discover they collectively rolled a total of 72, thanks to an excellent roll on Cole’s part.

“Hmm. All right. The good news is, you can confirm that the chest isn’t trapped or charmed, just locked,” said Varric. “The _bad_ news is that you can’t get into it without waking the dragon, because the dragon is sleeping on top of it.”

They all groaned (except for Bull, who looked extremely excited by the prospect of encountering a dragon). “What do we do now?” Rory asked. “We can’t touch the little guy or we’re dead.”

“Look through your abilities and inventory,” Varric urged them. “Discuss it. Work as a team to come up with a plan.”

They all began rattling off their inventories - which contained everything from parchment to plants they had collected to precious gems they were saving for spells and a bunch of weapons they would probably never use. By this point in the game, they each had an impressive list of abilities as well.

“I think we should try talking to it,” said Cole. “My character is good with animals.”

“All right, Cole,” said Jim after a pause. “Give it a try. If it doesn’t react well, we’ll have to try something else.”

Cole nodded. “Hello,” he said in character, addressing himself to the dragon in a soft, kindly tone of voice (which was pretty much his regular voice). “I’m Compassion. These are my friends. We aren’t going to hurt you, we just came looking for a very important treasure. Can you help us?”

Varric rolled his own dice. “The dragon lifts his head and looks at you. ‘What do you want?’ he asks. ‘I have many treasures. Why should I give them to you? You are polite, so I will speak with you, but I do not see why I should give you what I have rightfully stolen.’”

“That’s from _The Princess Bride,_ this dragon is good people,” Rory whispered. “Or, you know, good dragon. Anyway. Sorry again, carry on.”

“We’re looking for a scepter,” Cole continued. “It belongs to the king and he wants it back very much. We’ve come a long way to get it for him.”

“‘A scepter? You mean the antique jeweled rolling pin? The king’s ancestors stole it from my grandmother many years ago,’ says the dragon. ‘She hasn’t been able to make cookies for me since. I stole it _back._ ’”

There were a few “oooohs” at this revelation, but Cole merely nodded thoughtfully. “We have cookies,” he said. “One of our friends shared them with us. I didn’t eat mine - I’m a spirit, I don’t eat - so you can have it if you want. And maybe we can find you a new rolling pin.”

Varric was stifling a chuckle. “Roll for persuasion, please.”

Cole rolled, then peered at his dice. “Oh. Is that… good?”

Rory leaned over to check what he rolled and gasped. “You guys… it’s a natural twenty.”

“Nat twenties are _awesome,_ Cole,” Doug assured him. “Good job.”

Varric nodded, smiling. “The dragon studies Cole for a minute, then says, ‘Very well, give me the cookie.’ He takes the cookie, which is bigger than his head, and hops off the chest and leaves the cave. You can now work on opening the chest.”

There was a cheer and a lot of patting Cole on the back. “That was amazing!” Rory said enthusiastically. “Okay, Ella’s a rogue and she’s got some lockpicks at the ready. Move aside and let the lady work.” She chuckled.

“Roll for cunning,” Varric told her, “and add the roll to your dexterity stat.”

“Okay. Come on, dice gods, smile upon me…” She rolled, shut her eyes, and opened only one eye to look down. “That’s a ten… plus my dexterity… thirteen?”

“Okay. It takes you five tries and you break a few lockpicks, but you finally get the chest open.” Varric paused for dramatic emphasis. “It’s empty.”

Everyone groaned again. “What? I broke lockpicks for this?” Rory said, in character. “Where’s the scepter?”

“Wait,” said Hawke, “we’re probably overlooking something. I haven’t fought at the side of the world’s greatest hero for nothing.” Varric stifled a snort. “Let’s look around for something. You guys check the room, I’ll check the chest for anything we may have overlooked, like a false bottom.”

“Roll for perception.”

She did. “Fourteen.”

“Okay. You notice some words carved inside the lid of the chest.”

Everyone was completely silent in anticipation. “What do they say, Professor?” Nessa asked, eyes wide.

“They say ‘The treasure is not what you think.’ So now you have to decide what the treasure is.”

“Well, we came here looking for a relic,” said Jim. “But maybe the treasure is gold or gems or something instead.”

“Or a different relic,” said Seamus.

“It’s friendship,” said Cole.

“What?” asked Bull. “Friendship?”

“Almost none of our characters would have met each other if we hadn’t come on this journey,” he explained. “Whatever we find here, that’s the best part of the whole adventure.”

“So you’re saying,” said Hawke, “that the real treasure is the friends we made along the way?”

“And suddenly,” said Varric, “as the password phrase is uttered, a hidden door in one wall opens, and the dragon’s treasure hoard is seen inside.”

“Wait, what?” Jim, Rory, and Nessa said at almost exactly the same time as they exchanged a glance, eyes wide.

“You’re kidding,” said Doug. “That’s fantastic. What’s inside?”

“Some piles of gold coins, a few gems, some pearls, King Alexander’s scepter, and a first-edition autographed copy of _Hard in Hightown._ ”

Once again, everyone laughed, then cheered at the discovery of their objective. “Is it too early to say huzzah?” Jim laughed.

“Nah, go ahead.” Varric laughed.

He lifted his fist. “Huzzah! Huzzah!”

“Oh, why the heck not?” Rory laughed. “Huzzah!”

“So you all go back to the inn where you first met, and present the scepter to your employer with the mustache. Cadenza comes along and tries to convince Namud to marry her through a series of musical numbers,” said Varric. “Bathras elopes with the hero’s sister Annie and drives her crazy for many years. The rest of you collaborate on a book about your experiences and get rich from the sales.”

Everyone was in stitches, no one more so than Hawke. “And I guess they all lived happily ever after?” she ventured, between gales of laughter.

“Let’s just say they’ve got as good a chance as anybody else. And we’re done! You’ve completed your first adventure!”

There was a massive round of applause and a lot of complimentary chatter. “Varric, that was amazing, thank you,” said Josephine warmly.

“Yes, thank you, Professor!” Rory gushed. “It was a blast!”

“Glad you all enjoyed it. Be sure to leave me a good review,” he joked. “Go forth and brag about your leveling-up.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice.” Rory laughed, gathering up her dice and her stat sheets.

“And you can tell everyone about your character’s parents who are completely and utterly Professor and Mrs. Rutherford,” Jim teased.

“Jimmy, remember earlier when I told you to shush? Shush again.”


	3. An Expected Road Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the school's 'faux convention' behind them, Solas and company head for Denerim to attend the real thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello once again, dearest readers! We hope you're all doing well and staying safe during this incredibly bizarre time in global history. We wanted to update the story for everyone, to give you something cheerful to read, but it took a bit longer than we anticipated to get it underway. But here's the gang on their way to the convention, which is heavily inspired by our own convention-attending experiences, and we should have another chapter for you very soon too.
> 
> As usual, tk31085 had something to do with this - the whole reason A-Ha's "Take On Me" features here is because it's her favorite song and she wanted Mahanon (since he's her creation) to sing it.

By the time the actual video game convention rolled around, excitement had built and the students signed up to go were already making grand plans. The tidy roster of participants was just large enough that a few vans from the school garage were sufficient, with pairs of chaperones assigned to take about half a dozen students or less in each. The Partners in Crime found themselves in the van that would be piloted by Mahanon and Cassandra, the former of whom was in the driver’s seat as the latter reminded everyone to wear their seat belts.

“And you too,” she reminded her husband. “Plus the speed limit is not merely a suggestion. I’ve already mapped out the route, we should be there in exactly an hour if traffic cooperates.” 

“This is going to be so awesome,” said Jim cheerfully. “I’ve always wanted to attend one of these conventions, they’re like the stuff of legends for nerds.”

“It’s like we’re going on our very own epic quest,” Rory added, bouncing a little. “I hope I remembered to pack everything. Phone, laptop, all the necessary stuff.” 

“Do you have your charger?” Nessa inquired.

“Of course she does!” Jim replied. “Krem’s in Professor Harel’s van!”

Both girls groaned, but Rory’s lips twitched. “I want to be mad, but that worked too well. Plus I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me grin to hear him be called ‘my Charger.’ But still, you’re a madman.” 

“You know you love me.”

“We’re not sure why, though,” said Nessa.

“ _True,_ ” Rory said, chortling. “Oh, man, this is going to be an incredible weekend, I can already tell.” 

“I hope you’ve all been saving your pocket money,” said Mahanon, fiddling with the steering wheel and following Solas onto the highway. “A lot of artsy types go to these things and sell lots of goodies. Ev did it once or twice during college, actually, sold some of her pictures. Nothing to make a living with, but she had fun.”

“That’s amazing!” Rory squealed. “I would totally buy something from Mrs. Rutherford if she was still selling. I’m such a fan of unique art from people who do it for the love of it.” 

“I’m sure if you wanted a piece of her art, she’d give it to you for free,” Mahanon promised. “Maybe when the kidlet gets a little bigger she’ll get back to making things. I think she’s just been too tired since Skye got here.”

“That makes sense. I mean, we’re tired after taking care of the kiddos just on babysitting duty, I can’t imagine the full-time job. As we’ve said before, parenting is no joke. But the Skyhold babies are so darn lucky.” 

“Thank you - speaking as one of the parents of a Skyhold baby, I would like to think so.” Mahanon chuckled.

“So are we taking bets on how many texts Professor Tethras is sending to Mrs. Tethras?” asked Doug, who was sitting in the back of the van.

“As a Poetry Club alumnus, I sort of want to stick up for Professor Tethras, but in this case I really can’t,” said Rory, giggling. “Because it’s going to be _so_ many texts.”

“I was tempted to suggest to Mrs. Tethras that she turn her phone on Airplane Mode,” Cassandra joked, glancing back at the students with a grin. 

“Maker, I hope she didn’t,” said Mahanon, sounding faintly alarmed. “The man will go into panic mode and start texting everyone _else_.”

“Simple solution, we all turn our phones on Airplane Mode,” she said. “I’m kidding, of course, I would never be so cruel. I do hope he at least _tries_ to enjoy himself this weekend, though - there’s no point in him going if he spends the entire time worrying. That’s not good for either of them.” 

“I know. I’m sure he’ll be better once we get there. Or maybe Solas can insist he take a turn at driving - he can’t text with his hands on the wheel. In fact, Cass, why don’t you suggest it to Solas when we make our first stop?”

“Ah, that’s very clever. I’m sure Solas won’t mind taking a break anyway - he probably has notes to go over for whatever speech or panel he’s giving. I’ll admit I don’t entirely understand it.” 

“I’m not going to claim that I do either,” her husband replied. “But as long as he does, that’s all that matters.” He reached over to change the radio station. “Ooooh, I love this song! Anybody else?” It was ‘Take on Me’ by A-Ha, and without waiting for an answer, Mahanon started to sing along with the words. 

“Oh, no. I _knew_ this was going to happen if I let you drive.” Cassandra groaned.

Behind her, Rory and Nessa did likewise in almost perfect unison. “This is a great song,” said Nessa. “But Jim, if you start singing, I swear to the Maker…” 

“...IIIII’ll beeeeee gooooone in a day or twoooooooo!”

“Oh, Maker’s breath…”

“Okay, I changed my mind, epic quest cancelled,” said Rory, who had a hand slapped to her forehead as she glared at her best friend sidelong. “Let’s go home.” 

“I’m slowly learning that life is okay! Say after me, it’s no better to be safe than sorry!”

“I’m confused,” said Doug, leaning forward to speak semi-quietly to Rory and Nessa. “I thought Mr. Lavellan was _good_ at singing.”

“I know, he was great at the weddings and at graduation. Is it possible he’s doing this on purpose?” 

“Maybe he’s trying to make Jim seem less terrible by comparison.”

“That could be.” Rory laughed. 

“It’s kind of not working though,” Nessa snarked. 

“To be fair,” Doug pointed out, “this is a _really_ hard song.”

“True. I admire their spunk for trying. But my ears disagree,” said Rory. “At least it’s not a terribly _long_ song.” 

Nessa cringed, putting her hands over her ears as Jim tried and spectacularly failed to hit a particularly high note. “No, but it’s definitely long enough.”

“Truer words were never spoken,” Rory said, wincing. “I would say you should give singing lessons, Ness, but I’m worried that would just encourage him to keep trying.” 

“It could be worse?” Doug offered. “I mean, I’m not sure _how_ , but maybe?”

“Rors, why don’t you text somebody in the other van and ask them for help,” said Nessa, still cringing. “Maybe they can, I don’t know, stage some kind of remote intervention.”

“Ooh, like a distress signal,” Rory replied, fetching her phone. “I’m on it. And I think I know just who to send our S.O.S to…”

Tapping at her phone screen to pull up her text thread with Krem, she typed: _Hey, hon, I hope things are going well in van #1. If they are, please send help to us here in van #2. Or, at the very least, send earplugs._

The reply came several seconds later; it could only be assumed that he’d either been laughing or trying to figure out what she meant. _Something wrong, babe? Only problem here is Professor T sending panicky texts back to the school every two minutes or so._

_LOL, I can picture that. I wish our problem was so mild. The main issue here is that Jim and Mr. Lavellan won’t. Stop. Singing._

_...well, that’s not what I expected. What’s wrong with it, though?_

_You don’t understand - they’re singing along to Take On Me. They’re singing along to EVERY NOTE._

_Oh. OH. Now I get it. Uh… that’s harsh, but I’m not sure what you think I can do?_

_Call Jim and yell at him? Come up with a reason why the vans need to stop so you can rescue me and I can come to the quiet van? Ooh, ooh, wait, no - come up with a reason why the vans need to stop so you can come to this van and sing instead?_ Each of these was a separate text, like she was texting him ideas as they popped into her head. 

That he was having trouble not laughing at her predicament was obvious in how long it took him to reply. _Tell you what. I’ll try to convince Coach that we need a rest stop at the halfway point. Then maybe you can switch vans or something._

_You’re a lifesaver. But what do we do until then? We may not survive that long - or at least our ears definitely won’t._

_Got any tissues in your purse? I’ve seen people use them for makeshift earplugs at concerts, so the music isn’t so loud. Probably won’t solve the problem but it might help._

_Ah-ha! Yes, I packed a whole bunch just in case anyone needed them when we’re at the con, I’m sure I can spare two - or a few more if Nessa wants to plug her ears too. You’re not only a lifesaver, but a genius._

_See? You already had the answer, you were just too distracted by the song to realize it. It must be over now, though, right?_

_Yeah, it’s just ending now, praise the Maker. Pray that they don’t replay it. In fact, just pray for our sanity in general._

_I’m sure it’ll be better now that the song’s over. Mr. L usually sings well, so even if he keeps singing it won’t be too bad. Jim is - well, he’s your friend and I know you love him, but he’s a lost cause in this case._

_Yeahhhh, no argument here. I mean, he did a great job in the school musical, but he was *supposed to be* over the top in that. Also, he wasn’t two feet away from my head then like he is now._

_Oh yeah, the close quarters don’t help anything. Hey, maybe you can distract him by playing I Spy or something._

_I have a feeling Professor Pentaghast would put a stop to that right away. I think I Spy grates on her nerves - or maybe that’s just when Professor Tethras tries to play it._

_Probably. Maybe I should try to distract *him* with it. I bet he comes up with ridiculous stuff and that’s why it drives her nuts._

_You know what? That’s an amazing idea. Is he worrying very much? We were all discussing it earlier._

_I think he’s trying to appear cool, and for the most part he’s not bad, but he sure checks his phone a lot. My money’s on him actually texting Professor P or Mrs. R more than Mrs. T herself, because he won’t want to make *her* worry. Or maybe he’s just bothering Ms. H._

_Oh man, all of these seem so likely. My money’s on a combo of all of it. Hopefully once we get to the convention and there’s a million things happening and a whole bunch of stories just begging for him to tell them, he’ll be pleasantly distracted._

_And he gets to be Professor H’s bodyguard. He said he bought new sunglasses just for the look._

_I love that. XD And just the whole idea of him being Professor Harel’s bodyguard. And that Professor Harel is going to be doing a panel. And, you know, all of the everything. This is going to be fuuuuuun._

_It really is. Plus there’s that dealer’s room where I can buy some stuff to spoil my girlfriend. Got any ideas about what she might like?_

_Well, I suspect she’d like anything you bought for her, but I think she’d especially love any fandom art you might happen upon. ;)_

_Duly noted. I will keep my eyes peeled and collect intel from my spies._

_Eyes everywhere, huh? The Headmistress would be proud, LOL._

_I learned from the best. ;) See you at the rest stop, babe, I have to stop texting before I get carsick._

_Yeah, rest your eyes, sweetheart, and enjoy I Spy with Professor Tethras! Thanks again for the advice. <3 _

* * *

By the time they reached the rest stop, Jim had (slightly) calmed down from his what he called his epic rock and roll high. The teachers had a brief, variably amused consultation among themselves, from which Mahanon was almost conspicuously left out, and the decision to rearrange van passengers was made. “And Varric,” said Bull, “your turn to drive. At least that way Bethany can have some peace for a while.”

“I haven’t been continuously texting,” came the mild protest. “I’ve also been showing the kids why I’m the undisputed master of I Spy.”

This prompted one of Cassandra’s signature disgusted noises. “Better them than me,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve learned to hate that game.” 

“Aw, come on, General, you’d have such a good time if you let yourself enjoy it.”

“Absolutely not. I’ve already had to endure karaoke, I don’t think I could last through I Spy as well.” 

“You’ve never played I Spy with an actual spy,” Bull reminded her. “Varric only _thinks_ he’s the undisputed master because I’ve deliberately refrained from participating.”

That made her chuckle. “Now, even I have to admit I would love to see that,” she said, amused. 

“Ride in our van. Cutthroat I Spy and no bad karaoke.” He gestured grandly at the second vehicle. “We’ll put Solas in your van, he can keep your husband in line.” Solas didn’t comment on this, but he did give an impressive Spock eyebrow.

“A tall task, even for a Dread Wolf,” Cassandra noted with a bit of a grin. 

“I’m sure I can manage it, although I suspect he will not take kindly to being separated from you,” Solas replied in his usual calm way. “You may find yourself being subjected to an even worse barrage of texting than Varric has been unleashing on our friends back at the school.”

“True. Although I can turn my phone off free of guilt,” she joked. “We suspected you would be texting quite a bit, Varric. I suppose not even I Spy is enough to completely divert your attentions, understandably so.” 

The father-to-be grumbled, and glanced at Cullen. “Help me out here. You’re the only one who understands Cullening from the Cullen-er’s point of view.”

“Considering I apparently excel at it to the point that it bears my name,” he said, chuckling. “But honestly, being an expectant father is an entirely new level of powerlessness and anticipation that is not easy to cope with.” 

“Thank you, I knew I could count on the master for support.” Varric chuckled. “Okay, okay. I’ll try to restrain myself.”

“Luckily, she is in very good hands. Even so, I know it’s hard.” Cullen patted the other man’s shoulder in genuine sympathy. “Hopefully once we get to the convention, you’ll have other things to focus on for a little while. I know Bethany wants you to enjoy yourself.” 

“Yeah, she does. And hey, how many guys get to say they’re the bodyguard of the Dread Wolf?” Varric put on the new sunglasses Krem had mentioned to Rory, and folded his arms as he moved to stand in front of Solas. “I should have some kind of wire in my ear.”

Rory laughed, clapping her approval. “Oh, that’s brilliant. Maybe you rig something up with some headphones or a Bluetooth thing. Pretend you’re getting really important updates from someone.” 

He gave her a nod, with a little grin. “See, Sonnet gets the idea. And if it gets too weird and we need a quick escape…” He touched his ear, looking concerned. “I’m sorry, Mr. Dread Wolf, we need to get you to a secure location right away. The Stormcloaks are coming, or… something.”

“Just in case those fans get too intense, right?” Rory said, elbowing Jim and Doug. 

“Although that does remind me - what is your panel going to be about, Solas?” asked Cassandra. “Are you reviewing a particular game? Discussing your channel in general?” 

“I have three panels, actually, one for each day of the convention,” he replied, “as well as participating in an autograph and photography session. It makes the mask all that much more important - I am indebted to Michel for his assistance. One panel will be devoted to the nature of Let’s Plays and how to do such things; one will be a discussion of several video games, with audience participation; and one will be a question and answer session with a few of the other guests.”

“That sounds incredible,” said Cullen. “And also like you’re going to be quite busy. You should have an assistant as well as a bodyguard, to make sure you get to where you need to be on time,” he added jokingly. 

“I know you’re being facetious,” said Solas, amused, “but in fact the convention runners will assign someone to me for that purpose. They’ll also be providing me with an actual security person in addition to Varric. It’s just standard operating procedure - the bigger a guest, the more people are needed for this, and I’m a very minor one.”

“Even so, that’s very exciting.” This from Cassandra, who was listening with genuine interest. “I assume this convention is staffed mostly by volunteers?” 

“Largely volunteers, yes. Most of those who do get paid are in charge of cleanup or something along those lines.”

“I bet that’s a fun thing to volunteer for,” said Rory, likewise looking interested and glancing at her friends. “I can picture us having some fun with that.” 

“Yeah, for sure.” Jim nodded. “Let’s get some info on that while we’re there, maybe we can get involved next year.”

“Sweet! And who knows? Maybe someday we might be there plugging a book we’ve written together or something.” 

“Now _that_ would be amazing,” said Jim happily. “I might even learn to tap dance if that happens.”

“You’ve tricked us before with that,” Rory joked. “I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

“That was your own fault for trying to force my hand. Er, feet. If I _choose_ to do it, that’s a different story.”

“Well then, speaking of stories, we had better get to writing as soon as we get home. The sooner we write a hit, the sooner you can become a tap dancing legend,” she teased. 

“I’m sure we’ll pick up plenty of inspiration at the convention,” he noted. 

“Speaking of which,” said Varric, “are we ready to get back on the road?”

“I believe so,” said Cassandra. “All those switching vans, make sure you have everything you need for the rest of the trip.” 

“Switching vans?” Jim repeated. “Why are we switching vans?”

“Rory wants to ride with Krem,” Nessa told him. “And Coach Bull wants to be the I Spy master.”

“And because my eardrums can’t endure another singalong,” Rory added, elbowing him. 

“I see how it is. Fine, but you’ll miss the epic karaoke that Mr. Lavellan has planned,” he replied, elbowing her back. 

“I do?” Mahanon asked, amused. “Well, far be it from me to deny anyone.”

“Even so, I think I’m willing to take that risk.” Rory laughed, then glanced at Nessa. “Still not too late to come with me.” 

“If we both leave, nobody can get blackmail material on their phone,” Nessa replied. “Besides, if we put too many more people in the second van it might tip over.”

“Your valiant sacrifice is noted, bestie,” Rory said, putting a hand on Nessa’s shoulder. “I owe you a souvenir at the con.” 

“I can live with that, I think.” She chuckled. “Anyway, what are we standing around for? Let’s get to the con!”

* * *

A little over an hour later, the Skyholders found themselves in Denerim, their vans pulling into the parking garage of the convention center. “We’re definitely in the right place,” Rory remarked as they climbed out. “I can already see people cosplaying.” 

“Yeah, apparently some groups like to do photoshoots the day before the con. Less crowded, or something,” said Nessa. “I was reading about it on the website.”

“You’ll have plenty of time for tomfoolery and hooliganism after we get settled,” said Varric, chuckling. “Let’s get checked in and find our rooms so we can ditch our luggage. Nobody goes out without a buddy and without checking with a grownup, okay? Even if you _are_ a grownup.”

“Once everyone is settled, we’ll see about finding somewhere to get dinner,” Cassandra added. “Luckily the convention center is close to several restaurants and shops, or so I’ve heard.” 

“Denerim has plenty of stuff like that, and this part of the city is pretty old,” said Varric. “But I leave it to our resident history expert to go into the details.”

Cullen looked quietly delighted by the prospect. “I will admit there are a few historical sites I’m hoping to see if I’m able to fit them in,” he said, chuckling a little. “I even reread the Denerim specific chapters of my Genitivi books just to make sure I was completely prepared.” 

“Of course you did, because you’re you. I think we can justify a trip to at least one of those before we leave,” said Mahanon with a chuckle. “We are teachers, after all, we can make this educational.”

“Well, I didn’t want to presume - or take anyone away from the fun. But it has been a while since I’ve made it to this part of the country, so I certainly won’t complain about taking full advantage of it.” 

“Did anybody tell President Kingy we were coming to his neighborhood?” Varric asked. “Maybe he’d like to give us a tour.”

“I think Leliana mentioned it when she last spoke to the First Lady, yes,” said Cassandra with a nod. “Provided everyone’s schedules allow for it, I’m sure something could be arranged. That would be excellent, actually.” 

“Sounds okay to me,” said Bull. “But let’s check in first, and those of us who left certain persons behind can call home.” He clapped Varric on the shoulder. “You took it like a champ, driving the last leg and not touching your phone.”

“My hat’s off to you, Varric,” said Cullen. “I don’t think I would have been able to endure if I was in your position. And, as our friends will probably point out, I indeed did not endure.”

Cassandra chuckled her agreement. “I’m sure you didn’t miss much,” she assured Varric. “She probably got in a bit of a nap or something.” 

“Yeah, I know if there was a problem, Siren or Sparkler would have texted one of you. Still, at least we can let _them_ know we made it in one piece.” Varric took the ribbing easily, knowing he deserved it. “And I concede my crown to Tiny - you really _are_ the I Spy champion. I still don’t know how you even _noticed_ that one sign.”

“It’s what I do,” said Bull with a grin. “Like, for instance, I spy with my little eye that Cullen already has his phone in his hand to call home.”

“What?” Cullen protested with a grin of his own. “You said someone should let them know we arrived. And since I assume Varric will want to spend some time talking to Bethany, that means I can talk to Evvy.”

“It does, but let’s wait til we get to our rooms first,” said Mahanon. “I might not want to overhear whatever shmoopy stuff you’re planning to say to the little lady - get yourself some privacy.” He winked. 

“An excellent point,” Cullen returned, chuckling. “Well then, let’s get under way. Let me know if anyone needs help carrying their bags.” 

They had to stand in line at the concierge for a bit, but Varric (in whose names the rooms had been reserved) eventually passed out the hotel keys. “We’re on the eighth floor, north side, near the elevator,” he reported. “You kids are four to a room, for economy’s sake. The Lavellaghasts have their own room, of course; Tiny and Krem are doubled up, Chuckles and Curly are both forced to bunk with yours truly. Now, let’s go over the rules quick - check in with a grownup before going anywhere, and try to at least text us once every two hours, unless you’re sleeping. Stay with a buddy. Breakfast is complimentary in the hotel restaurant, and you can get lunch wherever you want, but we’re to have dinner together each night. Headmistress’s request. If you lose your room key, come find me immediately so we can get you a new one. Any questions so far?”

The students all shook their heads. “Also, we have a little surprise for you,” Cullen added, producing a few envelopes from his own bag. “I know most of you have been saving up to buy yourselves something in the dealers’ room, but here’s a little something extra - compliments of your teachers and the same benefactor who gets you all your weekly ice cream.” 

“That mysterious benefactor is always full of surprises,” said Mahanon with a chuckle. The kids, of course, were delighted with the gifts. “All right, let’s drag this stuff upstairs and make whatever phone calls are needed. How about we all meet in the lobby in an hour and we’ll see about some exploration and dinner?”

“That sounds like an excellent plan,” said Cassandra. “After that car ride, it will be nice to walk a bit, explore the city. All right, everyone, see you soon.” 

They trooped up to their designated floor and, with some scuffling and giggling, unlocked their respective rooms. “Ooh, these are some sweet digs,” Nessa commented, looking around the room she’d be sharing with Rory and two other girls. “Who wants which bed?”

“Well, you all know I’m a late riser, so I should probably take this one,” said Rory, flopping on the one that was farthest from the bathroom. “That way you guys can start getting ready in the morning while I’m still asleep and I won’t even notice.” 

“That’s true, you are. Okay, let’s get comfy.” Nessa chuckled, flopping onto another bed. “I can live like this for a few days.”

“Heck yeah. I mean, Skyhold is the best place on the planet, but it’s exciting to be out and about for a while. I can’t wait to see what kind of adventures we find.”

“I guess when we check in for the con itself, we’ll get all the details about what’s happening where and when. Then we can figure out what we want to do.”

“We definitely have to go support Professor Harel, if nothing else. And since the teachers were so generous and sweet, I’m totally going to spend a bunch of time in the dealers’ room. Other than that, I’m flexible.” 

“Agreed. Plus if they have any panels for writing fic we totally have to check those out with Jimmy. And Krem, if he’s up for it.”

“Ooh, heck yes, that would be a blast. I suspect Jimmy and I are going to come up with at least one fic idea during the course of this weekend.” 

Nessa laughed. “If you can limit yourselves to _just_ one, I’ll be amazed.”

"An excellent point you raise, bestie." Rory likewise laughed. "But all in good time, am I right? The first adventure I'm looking forward to is dinner."

* * *

Meanwhile, in the room shared by Solas, Cullen, and Varric, there were a few minutes of all but perfect silence. Cullen and Varric were avidly texting their wives, and Solas, amused, was texting Leliana with the news that they had arrived safely and were settled in the hotel. _Varric also thought perhaps it would be wise to contact the school’s spiritual parents and let them know we are in their metaphorical backyard. I can imagine His Excellency might be a bit disappointed if he found out that some of his children came to Denerim and didn’t even say hello._

 _What a marvelous idea,_ she replied. _I’m given to believe their duties are somewhat light this week, relatively speaking, so I’ll give them a call. At the very least, I’m sure they’d want to host you all for dinner._

_That would be extremely gracious of them. Once we’re checked in for the convention and have our official schedule, I can let you know what time we’d be wrapping up on Sunday and you can coordinate with them on our behalf._

_It would be my pleasure, of course. I will keep you all posted, as I’m sure you’ll keep those of us here at the school posted too._

_Oh, certainly. I’m sure my “bodyguard” and our other roommate will provide a continual stream of updates if I don’t confiscate their phones._ He glanced at the other two. “I trust all is well with the Skyhold mothers?”

The description made Cullen’s smile (which he had been wearing since he received his first text reply) brighten. “So far, so good,” he reported. “Not that I expected the place to fall apart in a few short hours, but even so.” 

“At Skyhold, you never know,” Varric retorted. “Sunshine’s been napping, and apparently Sparkler offered to run into town and get her some ice cream. So that’s good.”

“From what Ev was telling me, it sounds like they have a relaxing, calm weekend planned,” Cullen added. “Bethany is in good hands.” 

“I’m not worried,” Varric promised. “Well. Much. Where do we want to take the kids for dinner, any ideas? I know there’s a pizza place nearby that looked pretty decent.”

“That sounds nice and simple. Apparently some of the local businesses even give discounts to the convention attendees, from what I hear, so that will give us some options too as the weekend goes on.” 

“Smart move on their part. Well, I think we have some time to kill before we have to meet the kids, is there anything else we need to do?” Varric glanced at Solas. “Gotta air out your mask or anything?”

“No, neither that nor anything similar comes to mind. However, while you were both occupied, I was exchanging texts with Leliana,” he reported. “She said she will be getting in touch with the President and First Lady about the possibility of visiting with them before the weekend is out. She thinks they will at least hope to have dinner with us, so keep that in mind for your plans.” 

“Sounds okay to me,” said Varric. “I came here expecting shenanigans, after all. We have a lot of ground to cover. Maybe I’ll even get a new book out of it.”

“That sounds like a book I would like to read.” Cullen laughed. “And I know Cassandra is hoping for a sequel to your romance serial.” 

“...a hard and pre-emptive no on that one.”

That prompted another laugh. “I figured you would say that. Oh, well, let her live in her delusions a little longer.” 

“The romance genre is full of things she can read. I don’t need to contribute more to it.” Varric chuckled, however. “In fact, I’d bet five royals that she’ll find something in the dealer’s room to suit her needs.”

“Probably. Perhaps she can even find a panel about the romance genre and find some new recommendations. Maybe the Partners in Crime will go to get new ideas and she can pretend to be chaperoning them.” 

“I’ve never imagined Cassandra as quite that…” Solas cast about for a word. “Stealthy, perhaps. But she may surprise us. Shall we make our way down to wait for the others?”

Chuckling again, Cullen nodded. “Yes, let’s. The hotel lobby has some information about the history of the area that I’d like to peruse while we’re waiting.” 

“Of course it does and of course you do,” said Varric with a chuckle. “No surprises there. Let’s go.”


	4. In the Dealer's Room and What They Found There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The convention brings some surprises for a few of its attendees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, dear readers! We hope you are keeping safe and healthy during all this nonsense which is still happening. Sorry for the lengthy delay in updates, but apart from anything else, I (Lady N) went back to work and I just haven't had enough spoons for everything. But we were determined to get this chapter finished, and we finally did!
> 
> Here's where this becomes interesting: Jim and Rory have an experience in this chapter which actually happened to AB and me at last year's Zenkaikon. We were absolutely thrilled to meet GameMom, a longtime reader, who told us that "Skyhold Academy is my happy place!" (We understood this, because it's our happy place too!) You could have knocked both of us over with a feather and there were some genuine tears of joy. We loved the experience so much that we had to recreate it with our little story counterparts.
> 
> There's also a cameo in this chapter of our friend Destiny, of Destiny's Designs and the Moon Family Studios (who are actually the ones who made it possible for us to meet GameMom in the first place). We love and miss our Moon Family pals, whom we didn't get to see because Zenkaikon was canceled this year, so we put Des in the fic as a way of saying hello. Vist MFS here: https://www.etsy.com/market/moon_family_studios
> 
> We also are doing a small shout out to the Carolina Manga Library! This is a traveling library of, well, manga volumes which visits a lot of conventions each year, including ours, and they're the library being mentioned in this chapter. They're doing some great fundraisers in their efforts to promote literacy (I will neither confirm nor deny that I may be a calendar model) and we urge you to check them out here: https://carolinamangalibrary.com

Their first full day in Denerim dawned bright and clear, and they piled into the registration line for the convention. Solas alone didn’t have to do this; he, being a scheduled guest, had other formalities to process before the opening ceremonies, leaving the students to wonder about the particulars while they got their badges and guidebooks. “Obviously we should go to the opening shindig and be welcomed,” Bull told the group, “but after that you can go have fun. Just check in every so often like the Dread Wolf’s bodyguard told you.”

“This place is so much bigger than I was expecting,” Rory said, her eyes roving between the guidebook and the convention center itself, which was swarming with fans of all kinds. “I don’t even know where to start!”

“After the opening ceremony, sit down with the schedule and see what looks interesting,” Mahanon advised her. “The dealer’s room doesn’t open until after lunch, so you can ease into the madness slowly. Maybe check out that comic library or whatever it is they have upstairs.”

“Oh, that’s right! Professor Pavus really loved the notion of the convention having a library. I feel like I definitely have to check that out, you know, as a loyal library volunteer and library enthusiast. What are the rest of you looking forward to?” 

“Some of the costuming panels might be interesting,” Nessa remarked. “Maybe we can record one on our phones for Mrs. Tethras. And hey, I see fanfic-related panels that my besties will not want to miss.”

“Yeah, I am super excited for those,” Rory said with a bounce. “It’ll be a fun way to discuss writing, meet some other fanfic writers, get some new ideas. Glad I brought a notebook along in case I want to take notes. Or have to write plot ideas down.” 

“How about that costume masquerade thing tomorrow?” asked Krem, joining them with his newly acquired badge. “I heard some of the cosplayers talking about it, sounds like something we’d have at Skyhold to be honest.”

“You know, it really does, doesn’t it?” Rory giggled. “We should defs check it out and see what it’s like. Maybe then we can suggest a Skyhold version to the Headmistress when we get home. Or my ray of sunshine, I can see that being something he would want to MC.” 

“He probably would. Let’s try to get some footage of it so he can see what it is,” Jim agreed. “Then he can break into the vault of sequins as needed.”

“Vault of sequins?” Nessa repeated. 

“I’m convinced he has one somewhere. Just a big walk-in closet filled with sequins of every color known to man.”

Rory was grinning from ear to ear. “Professor Pavus would probably object to this notion, but I love it. Maybe it has a secret entrance, like you have to pull the right book in the library or something and _whoosh_ , suddenly there it is. I’ll do some investigating.” 

“Rumor has it that it’s the light sconce to the right of the staircase leading up to the bell tower,” said Varric, casually eavesdropping. “However, I’ve never gotten it to work, so I think that must be a red herring. Remind me to work the vault of sequins into my next roleplaying game.”

Rory clapped her hands in delight at the prospect, then pulled a notebook out of her bag. “You bet, Professor Tethras. Look at that, one amazing idea already and the convention weekend has just started!” she said when she had finished writing. “Told you all this place was going to be inspirational.” 

“And you haven’t even gotten into the dealer’s room yet. I somehow feel certain that the treasures in there are going to be very exciting for all of you. Maybe even for me.”

“I’ll just bet,” she said with a smile. “In the meantime, I wonder what this opening ceremony is going to be like.” 

“Oh, as I understand it,” Varric said, consulting his book, “they’ll introduce the special guests, make some jokes, maybe talk about some of the panels scheduled, and remind you where to go for help or food. I think there’s something about a scavenger hunt too, maybe they’ll give info on that.”

“Ooh, a scavenger hunt? That’s so up my alley!” She clapped again. “I love scavenger hunts. Especially as a plot device.” 

“You love anything as a plot device,” said Nessa. “Not that I’m criticizing.”

“This is an excellent point,” Rory conceded with a grin. “Hey, it’s not my fault that everything fits our OTPs so well.” 

“Cullevelyan is universal,” Jim agreed solemnly. “Hey, here’s one we haven’t done - he drives an ice cream truck and she’s lactose intolerant. Think it’d work?”

“Oh, Jimmy, I love how your mind works. But here’s the big question - how would they meet if she can’t eat ice cream?” 

“That indeed is the question. We can ponder it all weekend and see if an answer finds us.”

“A marvelous plan to be sure. And now I kinda want ice cream.” 

“After lunch,” said Cassandra, overhearing only this last line as she joined them. “Professor Harel has gone to prepare for the opening ceremony - perhaps we should go and get in line?”

“Ooh, yeah, looks like it’s getting pretty crowded already. We’d better go before we get lost amid a sea of cool costumes.” 

Once everyone had filed through the registration line, they collected in the mass of bodies waiting to enter the large room where the opening ceremony would be held. The whole area buzzed with excited chatter about movies, autographs, video games, and cartoons. “It’s like being in the dining hall at Skyhold, only much bigger and louder,” Bull joked. “We’ve been training for this and we didn’t even know it.”

“You’re not wrong,” said Cassandra, chuckling. “And something tells me there’s likely to be just as much squee as there would be in our dining hall.” 

“Probably more. Did anybody think to bring earplugs?”

“Sadly, no,” Rory interjected. “They would’ve been helpful during the drive out here. But I’ve got tissues if anyone wants to use those.” 

“Whyever would you have needed them on the drive?” Mahanon asked, with wide-eyed innocence that wouldn’t have fooled a three-year-old. 

“Yes, it certainly is a mystery,” Cassandra said dryly, her lips twitching as she playfully bumped him with her hip. 

“One of the Maker’s great mysteries, no doubt,” he replied, bumping her back. 

“Mm. Just remember, serah, turnabout is fair play. Perhaps the girls and I will engage in some karaoke of our own on the way home.” 

“Ooh, can we, Professor?” Nessa laughed. “I’m not sure what we could sing though.”

“Maybe we can do a reprise of ‘Love Is a Battlefield’ dedicated to Jimmy,” Rory suggested. “Or honestly, any girl power pop ballad will do.” 

“Or everyone could do ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ in honor of the absent Freddie Mercury lookalike,” suggested Varric. 

“Ooh, and we could record it on our phones to show him later! He’d either be super proud or super horrified.” 

“My money’s on both at the same time,” said Bull. “So I think it must happen. Maybe we can do it in both vans and splice the footage before he sees it - Felix would know how.”

“Oh, that sounds brilliant. I bet Felix can add all sorts of effects and stuff, make it even more ridiculous than it would be otherwise.” Rory laughed at the prospect. “I need this in my life.” 

“Me too,” said Nessa. “I’m not sure that Professor Pavus does, but I definitely do. Hey, the line’s moving, I think we’re allowed in the room.”

“Ooh, yay!” With great precision, Rory linked arms with her two best friends, Jim on one side, Nessa on the other. “This way we don’t get separated. I’m tiny - if the crowd overtakes me, I may be lost to the ages.” 

“Can’t have that,” said Jim with a chuckle. “But if all else fails, your handsome quarterback could tuck you under his arm like a football and charge through the crowd.”

She scrunched up her face as if considering the notion. “You know what? I’d be okay with that. I’d also be fine with riding on his shoulders so I can get a better view, but we’ll keep that as a reserve plan.” 

“Desperate times,” said Nessa. “Although if he does that, it’ll be easy for everyone in our group to spot you, so it’s not the worst plan.”

“We’d be like a human lighthouse.” She giggled. “Anyway, let’s do this! Time to get our con on!”

* * *

The Skyhold contingent (minus Solas) managed to cluster in two rows of seats toward the middle of the enormous room. The con runners welcomed everyone, outlined some basic reminders of safety procedures and where to go for assistance, and then got down to introducing the guests, who entered through a side door as their names were called. 

“Oh Maker,” said Krem, as the audience welcomed the ‘Dread Wolf’ with cheers and whistles, “look at Professor H. That mask is _wild_.”

Solas’s wolf mask, although not studded with gemstones or precious metals like most Orlesian masks, was nevertheless incredibly intricate. It obscured his entire face and most of his head, making it more like a headdress of sorts - which somehow seemed to suit him.

“I’ll say,” Rory agreed. “Wow. I would never in a million years guess that was our mild-mannered science teacher. Whoops, better not say that too loudly, don’t want to wreck his street cred.” 

“I doubt anyone can hear you anyway,” Jim noted, nodding toward the excitable crowd around them. “But yeah, gotta keep the truth on the down-low. I wonder if he’ll ever wear that to teach.”

“I don’t think I’d be able to focus on physics if he did. Although maybe having a wolf teach science might help me understand it better, who knows?” She laughed, then settled in as the crowd finally quieted. “Ooh, I think it’s starting.” 

“Shame he didn’t get the outfit until after we graduated,” Jim noted, then fell silent in order to listen to the continuing presentation. 

The attendees were advised about the city map in their souvenir books, reminded about lining up for autographs, and told in no uncertain terms that swooping was expressly forbidden. This last had the audience laughing with recognition. “I see they consulted with President Kingy about things,” Varric said with a chuckle. 

“I think he would be pleased to know his signature touch was felt even here,” said Cassandra. “Although I am not in the least bit surprised to discover that fact.” 

“It’s pretty well known. Even in the Marches, we know that ‘swooping is bad,’” said the author/bodyguard. “What is it the kids call that? An ascended meme?”

“Again, I think Alistair would be pleased to know he spawned a meme.” She chuckled. “It fits - not just with his personality, but with this whole event.” 

“Frankly, I’m mostly just surprised he isn’t here. He could turn out to be one of these elaborately costumed weirdos and I don’t think I’d even blink.”

“No, I don’t think I would either. Perhaps he would cosplay as himself just to confuse everyone.” 

Bull snorted. “And then some pasty-faced nerd would start nitpicking his costume and telling him that his eyes were the wrong color or something. Like that show where they thought the kid was cosplaying and tried to tell him that his scar was on the wrong side of his face.”

“Oh, Maker, why can I picture this so clearly?” said Cullen, shaking his head. “Luckily this convention seems friendly enough, so if the president does decide to cosplay as himself, I would _hope_ they won’t critique his ‘costume.’” 

“I would hope so too, Curly, but you never know.” Varric shrugged. “People can be weird about such things. Though now I’m wondering if we might run into anyone cosplaying as characters from one of my books.”

“It’s certainly possible - I’ve seen some pretty creative costumes on the internet. For all we know, we could run into someone cosplaying as _you_.” 

The author looked gobsmacked at the notion. “Okay, someone please make sure you take the real me back to Skyhold with you,” he said. “Accept no substitutes. Bethany deserves only the genuine article.”

“Don’t worry, I doubt any cosplayer could mimic your enormous mouth,” Cassandra teased. “We’ll definitely be able to tell the difference.” 

“Thank the Maker, I am one of a kind. But if you see anybody who looks like me, let me know. My wife won’t believe it without photographic evidence, I suspect.”

“We’ll take a picture of the two of you together, you have my word,” Cullen promised. “I think all our friends back at Skyhold would get a good laugh out of it. I wonder if anyone will cosplay as ‘the Champion,’ from _The Tale of the Champion_ as well.” 

“Now that, I would pay to see.” Varric grinned. “I will definitely need a picture of that particular nerd. Hawke will probably kill me in my sleep but - worth it.”

“She will spare you solely for the sake of her niece or nephew,” said Cullen with a chuckle. “But she can still make you pay, so we’ll tread carefully.” 

“Yeah, at the very least I’m sure she’ll let me live long enough to find out whether she won any money in the betting pool,” came the cheerful reply. “Well, looks like we can go do our separate things, so remember what we told you, kids - check in occasionally, drink water, and meet in the lobby at seven for supper. Have fun. Don’t do anything without plausible deniability.”

After a bit of excited chatter, the students rushed off to enjoy the many splendors of the con. Cullen gave a fond laugh as they bounded off. “It’s always so nice to see them enjoy themselves like this,” he remarked. “No matter how many times I witness it, it never gets old.” 

“Considering what some of them endured before they came to us, absolutely no argument,” said Bull, a bit gruffly. “Meanwhile, Varric has some bodyguarding to do, and the rest of us can mosey around and look for trouble of some interesting stripe.”

“I look forward to hearing about what sort of trouble you all managed to find when we all meet up again for dinner,” said Cullen. “In the meantime, I’d like to investigate this little library they put together. See you all soon!”

* * *

Thus, the first day of the con evaporated in a haze of purchased souvenirs and photos taken with cosplayers and a plethora of cheerful gossip shared over dinner. By the time the next day dawned, the students were even more excited. Later in the afternoon would be Solas’s highly-anticipated panel, an event all the students were eager to attend, but until then they had some time to kill. For their part, Jim and Rory were busy scouring the dealers’ room, getting a good second look at all the things they had seen the day before. 

“Hey Rors,” said Jim with a chuckle, picking up a volume of manga, “check out this cover art. It almost looks like our leading couple from the Exalted Age fic.”

Rory abandoned what she was looking at in order to scuttle over to his side. “Ooooh,” she said, eyes widening in delight. “You’re so right! Maker, the place where they’re standing even kind of looks like the courtyard where the family always gathers, like when they need to listen to a certain dashing minstrel play his lute. I may need to buy this just for the heck of it.” 

“Tell you what, bestie. I’ll buy it for you to make up for forcing you to listen to my terrible karaoke. I think I can _manga_ the cost.” 

“See, that was so sweet and then you had to go and ruin it,” she said, shaking her head. “But seriously, you’re sweet to offer. What’s this manga even about, anyway? If it’s about two pretty but oblivious dorks that enter into an arranged marriage and fall in love, I _will_ flip out.” 

“Let’s see.” He flipped the book over to read the synopsis. “Mm… well, kind of, yeah. Looks like it’s a little different - he’s royal to start and she’s been picked to be his wife because of reasons. Also there’s some kind of magical kid involved but I’m not clear who or why.”

“This sounds like it would be up my alley. Plus they look so much like the Lord and Lady of the Exalted Wood that I will certainly not complain about tons of pictures of them being adorbs.”

Before Jim could respond to this, they heard a hesitant voice. “Uh… excuse me. Did - did you say Exalted Wood?”

Rory turned around, smiling a little sheepishly. “Oh, yeah, we were just talking about this manga and how it reminds us of a fanfic. Sorry, we’ll move out of the way, you probably want to get here and browse yourself, right?” 

“Actually, I was just wondering if you were talking about this fanfic I read. It takes place on an estate by that name.” The speaker was a woman in an elegant costume, almost like something Josephine would wear. 

The sheepish look on Rory’s face vanished, replaced instead by one that suggested she was trying to absorb tremendous news. “Wait… was that fanfic written by LadyAuroraB and Jimquisition by any chance?” 

“That’s the one!” The woman looked equally stunned. “Is - oh sweet Maker - is that _you_?”

“It is!” Mingled surprise and delight made Rory’s voice a squeak. “That’s me! And him! And us! We wrote that! And you - you read that?” 

“Many times!” The woman gave a delighted squeal that would not have been out of place at Skyhold Academy, and she seized Rory’s hands. “The Exalted Wood is my happy place! I love it so much!”

Rory let out a squeal of her own, positively quivering with joy. “Oh my gosh, really? Oh, thank you, that’s the sweetest thing ever. I’m so happy to hear that! It’s our happy place too.” 

“This is unreal,” said Jim, grinning broadly. “We need to get a picture with you.”

“Oh, yes!” said Rory, bouncing up and down. “Yes, please, otherwise our friends will not believe this. And can I give you a hug too? Because you have seriously made this like the best day _ever_.” 

“Are you kidding? I have _got_ to give you a hug!” Their reader was positively delighted. “I had no idea you were going to be here, this is amazing!”

“And we had no idea we’d run into someone who read our stuff out here in the wide world! I mean, obviously people do read our stuff, but actually hearing someone say our story is their happy place…” The noise that escaped her was a squeak and a sigh rolled into one. “I’m all emotional just thinking about it.” 

“It’s just so wholesome and sweet and fun to read. I was dying for the lord and lady to figure out that the pining was mutual,” came the happy reply. “Mutual pining is _so_ my jam, and you just kept bamboozling.”

“We were dying for it too and we were the ones writing the darn thing.” Rory laughed. “Oh man, I cried so much when we were writing some of those scenes, but it was so worth it - especially hearing that you loved the pining as much as we did!” 

“The fight broke my heart. I know it needed to happen, but still.” Their new friend laughed as well. “I was going through a pretty rough patch when I found that story, and it really cheered me up. So I’m really glad to have the chance to thank you both in person.”

“Aww, and we’re so glad to meet you, you have no idea. I’m so happy we were able to make you happy - that’s all a writer could ever want, right, Jimmy?” 

“No question. This made our whole weekend,” he replied with a grin. “Come on, you two, squeeze in and let me get the selfie. Then I propose we buy this book and go have a snack with our new friend so she can get all the inside details we don’t share on AO3.”

“That sounds amazing!” said Rory, clapping her hands together. “As long as we’re not taking you away from convention fun or your friends or anything like that, of course,” she added. 

“My friends who brought me are running one of the booths. Let me just tell them where I’ll be and I’ll be right back.”

As their reader scuttled away to do just that, Jim looked at Rory and, with an incredulous laugh, hugged her around the shoulders. “Oh, man. I don’t think they’ve invented a word for the high I’m feeling right now.”

“I know! Oh my gosh!” She laughed in euphoria. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I might cry. Look at me, I have goosebumps! You’re sure this is real?” 

“Honestly, at this point I’m not sure I care anymore. Real or not, let’s just ride the wave of happy as long as it lasts.”

“Agree to agree. Oh, Maker, wait until we tell Nessa and Krem. For that matter, wait until we tell the teachers!” 

“Nobody’s gonna believe us.” He laughed again. “Still don’t care.”

“I don’t know, it does seem perfectly in keeping with the zany brilliance that is our lives. Plus we’ll have photographic evidence, that’ll help.” 

“Five royals says someone accuses us of hiring her!” He was still laughing, giddy. “Oh well. I think we should tell her we’re here with the real-life inspiration for His Lordship and see if her head explodes.”

“Oh my gosh, she’s gonna freak. How can we tell her that he’s even married to the real life ‘woman with emerald eyes’ and they have the cutest family ever? We’ll sound crazy.” Rory likewise laughed. 

“Art imitates life, I guess. We can always show pictures in self-defense - or find Cole, he’s here somewhere.”

“Probably looking for a souvenir for his sister. Oh, Maker, the stories he could tell. I half wish we could bring our new friend back to Skyhold with us and show her that our truth is stranger than our fiction.”

Jim chuckled once more. “As much fun as that would be, let’s not scare her _quite_ that much. Here she comes - let me buy you the book and we’ll go check out that hot pretzel stand in the lobby, try to find a place to sit.”

* * *

While his prize pupils were enjoying the company of their new friend, Varric was combing the dealer’s room for things to take back with him. Solas was in an autograph panel and didn’t need bodyguarding at the moment, so he tried to find something appropriate for a pregnant woman who didn’t entirely qualify as a nerd. 

“Okay, here’s some cute stuff. Sunshine always likes cute stuff,” he muttered to himself, observing a number of hand-knitted plushies. “Hey, could you help me?” This was directed at the woman behind the counter, a bespectacled redhead who vaguely reminded him of a younger Leliana. She was cosplaying in an impressive handmade outfit made to look like armor.

“Of course,” she said, smiling brightly. “You’ve made some good choices so far, I’d be happy to help out.” She nodded to the plush nugs, halla, and other adorable creatures that he was browsing. 

“Trying to find something for my wife. She’s expecting, and she’s not into a lot of the stuff I’m seeing,” he explained, “but she does like cute cuddly things so your display caught my eye. You made these?”

The woman nodded. “All of these things, in fact. I find the patterns and sew them myself. The costumes too.” She gestured to her outfit. 

“Nice work. My wife likes to do this kind of thing too. Hey, do you have anything in the way of infant costumes?” Varric chuckled. “We can start the kid young.”

“I like how you think.” She likewise chuckled in reply, approvingly. “I have a few costumes that might work, let me know if anything catches your eye,” she said, pulling out a little bin of tiny outfits. “And congratulations, by the way, that’s very exciting.” 

“Thanks. Exciting and terrifying pretty much sums up the entire experience.” He gave her a lopsided grin and started examining the options. Most of them were miniature versions of the standard types of costumes one could see if one wandered around the event - superheroes and book characters and fantasy creatures, all adorably pint-sized. “Okay,” he said after a minute, “what’s this green outfit with the pointy hat?”

“Oh, that’s Link from _The Legend of Zelda_ ,” she explained, taking the costume and holding it up so it could be seen in all its tiny glory. “It even comes with a little felt version of the Master Sword. And there’s a Zelda costume to match. Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl yet?” 

Varric shook his head, smiling in a vaguely Cullenesque fashion. “She’s not as far along yet as all of that. Tell you what - I’ll take both. That way we’re covered no matter who this kid turns out to be, and I’m sure we know someone who can use the spare.”

“Oh, are you sure? Thank you.” She was very clearly flattered, and also had very clearly noticed Varric’s content smile. “Here, I’ll even throw in one of these little druffalo plush I’ve been sewing,” she added, gesturing to the tiny knit dolls. “You can save it for the baby or give it to your wife as a little gift or anything you like. I hope to see you both at the con in the future - maybe even bring the little one when they’re big enough.” 

“Milady will love that. She already has a Hinterlands bear, this will go perfectly with it.” He handed over a small wad of bills. “And let me have a couple of your business cards, I know people will be asking where I got these.”

“Thank you so much, I’ll put a few in the bag,” she said, beginning to wrap everything up. “So are you enjoying the convention so far?” 

“It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. I’m actually here with the Dread Wolf, if you know who that is,” he replied. “Bodyguard slash colleague slash weekend roommate. He’s in one of his panels so I’m off duty just now.”

“The Let’s Player?” She laughed, clearly having recognized the moniker. “I’m hoping to catch one of his panels when I’m not here working the booth. So are you in the same line of work or does he have a day job? I’ll admit I’m curious.” 

“Day job. But I’m not at liberty to divulge the details,” Varric added. “He likes to exist in his little shroud of mystery, and part of my bodyguard duties are to help him keep his secrets. I must remain impenetrable.”

“Ah, I understand completely.” She gave a knowing nod that managed to be mostly serious. “He is lucky to have so dedicated a bodyguard and colleague - tell him that air of mystery just makes me even more eager to see his panel.” 

“I’ll do that.” Varric chuckled. “But if you’ve got a copy of _Hard in Hightown_ or _The Tale of the Champion_ lying around, I can help you out.”

The woman looked puzzled by this for a moment, until something slowly dawned in her eyes. “Wait a minute… I thought you looked familiar somehow. Don’t tell me you’re…” 

“The cover model. Yup,” he deadpanned. 

“Absolutely, it couldn’t be anybody but you,” she agreed, lips twitching. “Well, it’s really an honor to meet you and I would absolutely love an autograph if you’re not busy.”

Before she could quite finish the sentence, however, it became clear there was another person browsing the stand who suddenly became very interested in their conversation. He was a very tall man dressed in a costume that made him look like a strong barbarian warrior or something similar, but even as he endeavored not to break character the effect was greatly diminished by his wide star-struck eyes.

“I sincerely apologize for interrupting, but I couldn’t help but overhear… you’re - you’re Varric Tethras!” he said with awe. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Varric. “Uh. Yeah, hello. Signing autographs for the next five minutes only.”

“Oh, _thank you_.” His excitement was palpable, even past whatever he was cosplaying as and the accent he was using as part of it. “I’ve read all your books, _and_ I have all the printings of _Hard in Hightown_ \- even the banned version! I’ve read it _thrice_.” 

“Huh. Nice to know the ‘rocks falls, everyone dies’ ending found its audience.” Bethany was going to laugh herself sick when he told her about this, which made him sorry that no one was around to corroborate the story. Hawke would be sorry she missed it. “Well, grab whichever copy you want signed.”

He did exactly that, looking overjoyed. The woman who ran the stand was smiling with amusement over the whole situation. “I can get a photo if you both want to remember the occasion,” she offered.

“Oh, that’s very good of you. Sure, if you could take one with his phone and one with mine, my wife’ll get a kick out of this.” Varric passed her his device.

“Absolutely. Who knows, maybe sometime in the future you can have a panel of your own here to talk about your books.” 

“Don’t give anyone ideas.” He laughed. “My best friend will tell you that if I start talking, it’s impossible to get me to stop. Unless you’re my wife, she has a trick.”

“Somehow I think all the fangirls here would enjoy that. There would probably be a lot of delighted squealing.” 

“I hear enough of that at my day job,” he noted, amused. “It’s all right, though.”

“Well now I’m even more intrigued.” She laughed. “But I know you’re sworn to secrecy. Anyway, let me get those photos for you. Smile!” 

Varric put on his best picture face, which was generally regarded as the halfway point between sincere gentility and smug self-aggrandizement. The vendor dutifully snapped the photos and returned the phones. “Thanks very much, Stitch. And if you’ve got a pen, I’ll take care of those autographs right away too.”

“Oh, am I Stitch? Because of my sewing? I rather like that.” She beamed. “Anyway, I have a few pens right here, please take whichever one you like.” 

“I give nicknames. It’s kind of my thing.” He scrawled a dedication in the man’s copy. _To Fanboy, many thanks, Varric Tethras._ “There you go.”

“Oh, thank you,” he said for approximately the eighth time. “Enjoy the rest of the convention!” He struck a salute that was keeping with his costume, bowed, and hurried off, presumably to find friends and relay the tale. 

“Well, as a friend of mine likes to say, that was a thing that happened,” said Varric, amused. “I’ll let you get back to your work, Stitch, but count on hearing from me again for more baby stuff. Oh, and let me sign something for you quick too.”

“You are too kind, Mr. Tethras, thank you so much,” she said, producing a copy of _The Tale of the Champion_. “It has been such a pleasure, I’m so glad you stopped by.” 

“I am too.” He signed the book with a flourish. _Stitch, thanks for my kid’s clothes. I’ll send an order once I know what I’m expecting. Varric Tethras_. Returning it, he scooped up his purchases. “Thanks for all this. I’m going to go send that picture to my wife, she hasn't heard from me in the last half hour.” With a parting wink, he disappeared into the crowd.


	5. Varric Runs the World, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the convention, Varric hosts another game of Gatehouses & Ghouls - this time for the grownups.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, dear readers! We wanted to post more of this over the last few months, but life kept getting in the way. (As it does.) But we're going to make it up to you with two chapters posted at once, because this part of the adventure holds so much nonsense that it would have been an insanely long chapter. The whole thing totals just over 29,000 words, so even splitting into two chapters, it's still ridiculously long!
> 
> If you enjoyed the earlier chapter in which Varric ran a game for some of the students, this will all seem very familiar to you. And yes, we pretty much made it up as we went along, like any good game masters. Buckle in for another bout of happyfun insanity.

Varric was thoroughly satisfied, upon his return from the convention, to hear that those teachers who hadn’t participated in his _Gatehouses and Ghouls_ campaign were intrigued by what they’d heard from those who had. “What I hear you saying,” he said, “is that you’d like me to run a second game for the grownups. I think I can oblige - what do you think, Sunshine?”

"I think it's a brilliant idea." She beamed. "On one condition - I want to join the fun this time." 

“Oh, yeah?” He grinned at her. “The hero’s sister who married the bard wants her own adventure, is that it?”

"Something like that." She chuckled. "Or maybe I'm just terribly curious to see what adventures you cook up for us all. And what types of characters the others will play, for that matter." She glanced at the others with a smile.

“Well, those of you who were around for the first game are welcome to reuse your characters or to make new ones, whatever you prefer.” He thought a little. “I’ll need a bit of time to cook up a plot. Does Saturday night work for all of you?”

A few people agreed immediately while others pulled out their phones to check their calendars, all of it punctuated by excited, intrigued chatter.

"Saturday sounds excellent," said Cullen. "Provided we can convince the Partners in Crime to babysit, of course." 

“When has that ever been a challenge?” asked Mahanon with a laugh. “Count me in too. The kids kept talking about it in the car - well, when we weren’t singing - so I’m intrigued.”

"I am too," said Cassandra. Then, giving her husband a teasing glare, she added, "Provided you're not playing a bard. Or, that if you are, you play one with the better singing skills I know you possess."

“Why, Mrs. Lavellan, are you suggesting that you did not, in fact, enjoy my rendition of ‘Take On Me’?”

"That is precisely what I am suggesting. And I'm pleased my suggestion wasn't too subtle." Her lips twitched in amusement. 

“I was actually thinking I’d try a completely different kind of character, especially since Hawke already plays a bard.” He batted his eyelashes at her. “What would you say to being married to an ogre?”

"I will refrain from the obvious comment of 'I already am,'" she teased, elbowing him playfully. "Be advised, ogre, I plan on playing a warrior, so you may wish to tread carefully."

“You are a harsh mistress.”

“Try to keep that banter to a minimum,” said Evvy. “The less weird stuff I know about your marriage, the better I’ll sleep at night.”

Mahanon chuckled. “What kind of character are you plotting, little lady?”

“Oh, mine’s a surprise. But I think Dorian in particular will appreciate it.”

"Oh, color me intrigued," said the man in question. "I see you've given this some thought. Planning on playing Cinderella, my Cinderella?"

“Not exactly. But you’ll understand the joke better than anyone.”

"Hmm. Interesting. I look forward to it."

"I do as well," Cullen added, looking amused. 

“You and I will have to discuss it, because I’ll need your help.” She giggled. “Hopefully you find it as funny as I do.”

"I'm sure I will. This is going to be quite the game, I can already tell." 

* * *

They convened in the staff room immediately after dinner on Saturday, once the babysitting team was in place. Varric explained for the new players how the character creation process worked, and had reserved the first hour for them to fill in their sheets and determine stats. “I’ve got extra dice for anyone who needs it.”

“I brought a picture for my sheet,” said Bull. “This is what I imagine Sillat looks like.” He held up a picture of a delicate redheaded waif.

“Nice, Tiny. You artistic types are also encouraged to draw your characters if you’re so inclined.” The game master nodded at the two art teachers.

"This is what I imagine my character looks like," said Hawke, putting her hands on Varric's shoulders. "Only even shorter. There, no drawing required." 

“Devastatingly handsome and charming. Maybe you could weaponize that against a monster,” Varric suggested dryly.

"No, I was thinking he could maybe talk the monsters to death," Hawke replied.

"Of course, now that Annie is here, I imagine Eric Bathras will have to be on his best behavior," said Bethany, who was giggling helplessly. 

“This is true.” Varric chuckled. “And if he isn’t, she can always threaten to tell her brother, I imagine.”

"Ah, yes, the famous hero," said Hawke, looking more than a little smug. "He will definitely have some things to say about such a thing, I'm sure." She and Bethany exchanged a knowing glance. 

“Uh-oh, I know that look,” said Varric, mildly. “My girls are up to something. Well, in the meantime, does anyone need help with their character sheet?”

"I might," said Dorian. "Just to make sure that my character is indeed as perfect as I imagine him to be." He too looked smug, but it was a different shade of smug than Hawke wore. 

“Seems like a lot of people are up to something.” Varric went to have a look at Dorian’s sheet, and chuckled quietly. “All right, so your stats here need to be calculated to make sure that he’s effective in the areas where you want him to excel. Here, Tiny, let me show him yours so he gets the idea.”

Josie, meanwhile, was updating hers in accordance with the experience points she had logged during the first adventure. “Namud’s fan club might send more cookies this time,” she said, “if the opportunity arises.”

"Oh, yes, I heard a lot about your character and his fan club, Josie," said Bethany with a laugh. "Has that bard you all helped last game eloped with him yet?"

“No, but not for lack of trying. She’s officially joined the fan club, though,” she replied, grinning. “He turned her down because he doesn’t want to play favorites. It has to be true love in order for him to be tied down!”

"I would love to see the character who eventually captures his interest." Bethany laughed again. "And I'm very interested to discover how all of us came together to form an adventuring company in the first place. I'm surprised those of you from the first game didn't go off and retire with your riches."

“I’m assuming that’s what the kids’ characters did,” said Bull with a chuckle. “Either that or they became quest givers in their own right and use the money to pay adventurers to go do other stuff.”

"Somehow, I can definitely see that happening. I wouldn't even be surprised if they continue the adventures on their own. Wasn't there some talk about perhaps forming an official club?"

“In the fall when the new school year starts, Jim and Doug are considering spearheading one.” Varric nodded. “I’ll be the nominal staff supervisor, but since I’m going to be kind of busy with a certain other project, I’ll be letting them handle most of the details.”

“Yes, probably a good idea,” Bethany agreed with a smile. “Besides, I’m sure the boys will be thrilled by the notion of getting to run a club.” 

“Most likely,” he agreed. “All right, everyone finish up your sheets and I’ll get drinks for the crew. Place your orders now because once I start conducting this train wreck, someone else has to handle refills.”

“Hopefully it doesn’t involve an actual train wreck,” Cullen joked. “And don’t worry, if refills are needed, I’ll get them - as long as you don’t keep the story going without me.” 

“You’ve got a deal, Curly. And I promise, no actual trains will be harmed in the making of this adventure.”

* * *

Once everyone had a completed character sheet and a drink, Varric took his place at the head of the long staff table. “Far to the west in Orlais,” he began, “is a mysterious desert known as the Hissing Wastes. Legend says that ages ago, a colony was established there by a man who wanted to guide his loved ones away from war and strife. However, no one knows what became of Lord Fairel, nor of the colony, nor of the people who lived there. You have each received a letter from the Council of Heralds, inviting you to join an expedition to learn the truth once and for all, and in response to your letters you have all convened at a tavern in Val Royeaux to learn the details of the plan.”

“Because of course every great adventure begins in a tavern,” Dorian noted with an approving chuckle.

“So it sounds like a history mystery then,” said Cullen brightly. “What a shame I didn’t opt to play a history professor - I thought it would be too true to life.” 

“This will be right up your alley, Curly,” Varric assured him. “For the record, this actually _did_ happen. I’ve changed some details to make it more colorful for the purposes of our fictitious adventure, but the basics of the story are true, according to a very old book I found. The actual expedition to find the lost colony happened about three ages back and mostly rates a footnote in the majority of history books.”

“So many very interesting things do, I find,” Cullen replied, then cleared his throat. “But that’s something for me to research on my own time. For now, I’m not a history professor, I’m a warrior, and I’m here to see what business has summoned me to Orlais.” 

“Well, the Council of Heralds is represented by a masked fop - no offense, Champion - who addresses you all. ‘ _Messeres et madames_ , I am grateful that you have come to hear about the expedition.’” Varric adopted something of a falsetto voice with an absolutely wretched parody of an Orlesian accent. “The Council of Heralds is determined to know the truth of this Lord Fairel’s fate once and for all, so that if he has living descendants, they might be restored to their proper estate. If you agree to undertake this search on our behalf, you will be provided with food and supplies for eight weeks, and transport to the edge of the Hissing Wastes. There you will search for any clues you can find about the existence of this colony.”

“Is it too early to roll for perception... or whatever will help me discern if he’s lying?” Bethany wanted to know. “I’m a bit curious to know why they’re so eager for such an expedition right now and why we were chosen.” 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Sunshine.” Varric gave her a fond, if slightly exasperated, smile. “The quest giver never lies, that would be pointless. But you can ask questions if you want.”

“Sorry, clearly I’m projecting from my past experiences in Kirkwall - we had all manner of shady sorts employing us then, didn’t we?” She chuckled, then cleared her throat to get into character, not that Annie was too terribly different from her regular persona. “It’s an intriguing expedition to be sure. If we can answer an unanswerable question and ease a few minds in the process, I’ll consider this a success. But why us? And why now, messere?” 

“Why you? Why, because we reached out to those we felt could succeed. And because you answered that call. Why now? Because…” Varric, in his role as the quest giver, sighed. “Because one of my fellow Heralds and I have a bet, and I am determined to resolve it.”

“Ah, now _that_ makes sense,” said Michel with a nod, even as he did his best not to laugh at Varric’s exaggerated Orlesian accent.

“A bet?” Cullen repeated. “If we are to undertake a quest on the back of a bet, I would like to know the details.” 

“It is very simple. I believe that this colony and this Lord Fairel really existed, but my second cousin twice removed-in-law, Duke Pompelmousse, insists that it is all a fairy story for children.” Varric shrugged. “I am therefore willing to finance the expedition to prove that I am right. You do not see him offering to spend the coin to prove me wrong!”

“The man has a point,” said Dorian. “And a good one at that. I for one am all for anything that will increase my wealth and prestige, so I’m certainly all for this.” 

“Excellent. I will leave you now to make plans among yourselves. Once you have determined who among you will undertake the adventure, you will find me at the bar,” said Varric. “I will then arrange your transport and supplies.” Reverting to his own normal voice, he continued, “The masked fop does some kind of weird exaggerated dance step away from the table, and you can now go around and introduce yourselves.”

“Well, since I was the last to speak, shall I go first?” Dorian suggested, then plowed on before really waiting for an answer. “I feel as though my character would need no introduction in our fictional setting, for he is of course a bard of some note. Noted for his handsome appearance, charm, wit, skill with the lute, and impressive vocal range, he is considered by many to be the greatest of all time. If you’re looking for autographs, fear not, he’ll sign a few when business has been concluded.” 

There was a slight pause, and someone coughed. “ _Kadan_ ,” said Bull, with what sounded like forced patience, “did you deliberately set out to play Freddie Mercury or was this some kind of subconscious thing?”

“What? Don’t be ridiculous, of course I…” He peered at his character sheet for a moment, then blinked. “Oh. _Vishante kaffas_ , I suppose I did. Well then, clearly it was meant to be.” 

“This is like Sonnet during the original run, when she accidentally-on-purpose created a character who was basically Skye,” said Varric with a chuckle. “All right, who’s next?”

Bull and Josephine, since their characters were already somewhat known to the group, gave brief introductions, and then Michel decided to jump in. “I wanted to do something that was unexpected,” he said. “There were so many possibilities. So I am a bear.” He paused to let that sink in, then clarified, “A shapeshifter, that is. I can turn into a bear at will. Unfortunately, it is the only spell my half-elf currently knows. His name is Asher, but most people call him Grizzly.”

“That sounds like it will prove quite useful,” said Cullen. “At least you got to _choose_ to turn into an animal.” His lips twitched as he glanced in Evvy’s direction. “What do you think, darling, should we go now or leave our surprise for a bit later?” 

“Oh, let them wait.” She chuckled. “I want to know what Leliana has up her sleeve, myself.”

Leliana looked delighted by the recognition. Since she loved stories almost as much as Varric, she was clearly thrilled by the whole spectacle already. “Well, I heard I made a cameo appearance in the first game as a messenger named Ravenna, so I decided to bring her back… but with a twist. You see, Ravenna isn’t merely a courier, she’s an arcane warrior who works for the highest spiritual authority in the land.” 

“She’s a what now?” asked Mahanon.

“An arcane warrior. It’s sort of a combination of mage and warrior whose powers derive from divinity,” she explained.

“Well, this is still taking place in Thedas, so that would put her in the service of the Chantry,” Varric reminded her. “Not sure the Divine would have arcane warriors in her ranks - but hey, we make the rules here so I’ll allow it. Nice to see you again, Ravenna.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” she said, bowing as much as her seated position could allow. “And of course, since I do work for the Chantry, the magic portion of my abilities are kept… somewhat under wraps. But I can assure you that the Chantry makes clever use of my talents. Magic is a gift from the Maker, after all,” she added with a charming smile. 

“Makes sense. All right, Lockpick, what’s this I hear about an ogre?”

“Oh, yes.” Mahanon coughed. “Me Gorf. Me ogre. Big. Strong. Like shiny rocks and pretty girls.”

Cassandra rubbed her temples with a long-suffering sigh, looking like she was trying to keep the amusement off of her face. “The Maker is testing me,” she said with a playful sort of resignation. 

“Gorf promise not to sing,” Mahanon protested. “Will go with friends for lots of shiny rocks and kiss from pretty girl.”

“I wish you luck with that,” she teased. “And am grateful you aren’t a musical ogre. Now, as for me, I’m playing a warrior like I said.” Her eyes took on an excited glint. “She is a Knight-Captain who has been through many trials - lost loves, false accusations, betrayals from her closest allies. But she has emerged through them all victorious.” 

Varric exchanged glances with Hawke. He was about 85% sure that Cassandra was playing as the main character from _Swords and Shields_ , but he was even more sure that if he called her on it, she might walk out. Or kill him. Or kill him and then walk out. “That’s… perfect for you,” he said instead. “What’s her name?”

“Even her friends call her Knight-Captain,” said Cassandra. “Anything more than that is… privileged information.” 

“Well, we’ll see if Gorf can pry it out of her. Okay, Curly, who are you bringing to the table?”

Cullen grinned a little. “So, as I said, I’m playing a warrior. He has something of an… interesting past. When he was at the height of his adventuring heydays, he had a bit of an unfortunate run-in with a spell and is only sitting before you today because, well, he had a little help.” 

“He was a unicorn,” said Evvy, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “He was cursed into the form of a unicorn, and stuck that way until he ran into my character, who has the ability to talk to unicorns. As you can imagine, it’s not a skill she’s often called on to use, but it helped him get back into his proper form eventually. And they’ve been together ever since. My character’s name is Victoria and she is a unicorn whisperer.”

Dorian was laughing, clapping his hands together in delight. “Oh, that’s _perfect_. No wonder you said I could appreciate your character, how brilliant. And true to life.” He grinned at Cullen, who shrugged good-naturedly.

“I’ve resigned myself to my fate.” He chuckled. 

Varric was also laughing. “That’s pretty damn clever. All right, that just leaves Blackwall, Solas, and my girls - who wants to go next?”

“We’ll go last,” said Hawke, gesturing between herself and Bethany. “We need an essential ingredient to be ready before we can spring our surprise. Plus you all know the gist of Eric and Annie already, so you really only need a refresher, I’m sure.” 

“Well, I also wanted to play against type,” said Solas. “But I’m still a bit fatigued after all the convention excitement, so I also didn’t want to push myself too hard. I’ve merely adapted one of my favorite NPCs from _Skyrim_ for the purpose - his name is Talen, and he is a lizard man who owns an inn, but in his younger days he was an adventurer. He’s fairly sure he got invited to participate in the quest by mistake, but he’s not about to pass up the opportunity for one last hurrah before he settles down and gets married to his coworker.”

“That is definitely the last thing I would have expected,” said Dorian. “But if he’s looking to marry his coworker, then he ought to teach here at Skyhold. He would fit right in.” 

“I can hardly argue the point, but most of what I just said is canon for Talen,” Solas replied serenely. “He runs the inn, Keerava tends the bar, and an optional quest for the player is to find the three flawless amethysts Talen needs to make her wedding ring. For the purposes of this story, he’s partly going along on the quest for the same reason, so he can earn the money to buy the components.”

“Lizard man want shiny rocks too?” asked Mahanon in his Gorf voice. Cassandra groaned.

“...in a manner of speaking, yes.”

“I’ve long since stopped understanding what’s going on here,” said Blackwall in a dryly amused voice. “But I’m not surprised. I guess that leaves me then, since ‘Eric and Annie’ have requested they go last. I’m also playing a warrior, but a special class of warrior that swears a blood oath.” He waved at his sheet. “Varric helped me set it up.” 

“He’s basically a variant of the Grey Wardens, only with even more secrets and some magic thrown in,” Varric translated. “His character roams the continent in search of people who want to make the world a better place and don’t necessarily mind the risk of getting killed in the process. More than that he’s not allowed to say.”

“What a motley crew we are,” said Dorian. “Very true to life, if you ask me. And speaking of true to life, it looks like we have the bard and the hero’s sister left to go.” 

“Indeed.” Hawke looked somewhat unbearably smug, much as she had when she first unveiled the character. “As some of you might know, my character is a mouthy dwarven bard who lives in a tavern and sings of the exploits of the local hero. After the most recent adventure, Eric Bathras finally married the hero’s sister, on whom he had a crush for several years.” She gestured to Bethany.

Bethany waved. “And given how the first game went, I’m sure all of you know I’m playing Annie, the hero’s mage sister who has retired to a life of fashion design in the aftermath of the hero’s thrilling adventures. Annie was only too happy to elope with Eric, since her crush has been just as long-standing.” 

“And they are up to something, but I haven’t yet figured out what,” Varric added. “However, I suspect that if Eric does anything his wife finds too unbearable, she’ll immediately report him to her brother.”

“Oh, absolutely,” agreed ‘Annie.’

“That’s why Eric needs to stay on his toes,” said Hawke. “Because Annie’s brother is quite the specimen - handsome, good voice, excellent dancer. Not very punctual, however, although I suspect that’s not entirely his fault.”

“I think this hero can speak for himself,” said a new voice from the hallway. 

Varric, who had previously looked amused, now adopted an expression of comical surprise. “Broody? Is that you?”

“I have no idea who this ‘Broody’ is,” replied the voice that very obviously belonged to Fenris as he swung open the staff room door. “I am known as the Champion. But you can call me Kestrel.” 

The room echoed with barely-restrained laughter. Varric didn’t bother fighting his own. “Well, then, we’re delighted to have the legendary Champion joining us,” he managed. “This is turning out to be… something. I couldn’t put any of this in a book, nobody would buy it.”

“As is true of most of our adventures,” said Bethany with a laugh.

Hawke was still grinning, looking completely satisfied as Fenris took a seat beside her. “I’ve been texting him updates on the sly, so he’s ready to roll. Literally.”

“I made a _heroic_ effort at getting here sooner, but the traffic is murder,” Fenris noted, lips twitching. 

“I’m pleased to report that you won’t have that problem getting to the desert,” said Varric. “All right, well, now that I know what you two were plotting, I feel much better. Shall we inform the Council representative that you’re all agreeing to the quest?”

There were several statements of affirmation, everyone looking various shades of amused and excited to begin. “I hope you’re keeping notes on all of this, Varric,” said Leliana. “I’m already looking forward to revisiting it and we haven’t even properly started yet.” 

“I will of course provide a written account of the entire disaster,” he promised. “All right, so you’ve agreed to help the Council rep settle his bet once and for all. He enthusiastically provides you with food, tents, basic equipment, and some wagons to drive you to the edge of the desert. So now you’re there. You establish a base camp at a spot from which you can see a couple of odd statues, but otherwise there’s mostly just sand.”

“Oh, joy,” said Dorian dryly - probably in character, but it was difficult to tell. “Already I’m regretting coming along. Someone as flawless as myself should be in a city somewhere being admired, not trying to get the sand out of my hair.” 

“Well, think of all the beautiful and expensive clothes you can buy yourself when we get paid,” Evvy suggested. “All right, I think we need to form a plan. We can’t just go traipsing off in any direction, we’ll get lost.”

“Excellent thinking, darling,” said Cullen. “I’m curious about these statues myself. Are they anything recognizable?” 

“They look like figures of people - rather exaggerated figures, and obviously larger than life size, but still,” Varric replied. “You estimate that you can walk up to the base of the statues, although it is something of a hike across the sand.”

“Hmm. I’m wondering if those statues point the way to what we’re looking for,” he mused. “Or else hold a clue. However, I’m also wondering if my warrior in all his armor will just drop into the sand like that scene in _The Princess Bride_ , so I would probably be wise not to investigate that on my own. What do you all think should be our first step?” 

“Well, here’s my first question,” said Josephine, sagely. “What time of day is it? Do we have much daylight to work with?”

“It’s around lunchtime. You’re all discussing the plan over the midday meal,” Varric replied.

“The statues seem as good a place to start as any,” said Cassandra. “Should a few of us scout ahead and see if it’s safe or if there’s anything worth investigating?” 

“That seems like a reasonable plan to me,” said Bull. “I think Annie’s the only mage of note in the group, isn’t she? She should probably go, since I don’t imagine unicorn talk or bear shifting is going to help much with this.”

“Probably a good idea.” Bethany nodded.

“And if Annie’s going, Eric’s probably not far behind,” added Hawke. 

“And the Champion isn’t inclined to let either of them far out of his sight,” said Fenris, amused. “So that’s three - perhaps one more to round it out?”

“Well, we’ve got the three traditional classes represented right there,” Varric noted, equally amused. “Eric’s a rogue, Annie’s a mage, and the Champion’s a warrior. Any takers for the fourth slot? Seems like four is often a good number for small missions like this.”

“I could go,” said Cullen. “If no one else is interested. Otherwise my warrior will probably just sit at camp and admire Victoria.” He smiled at Evvy. 

“Art imitates life,” said Leliana with a chuckle. 

“Go on then,” Evvy replied, giving his hand a pat. “Maybe take off the heaviest parts of your armor, though, just in case.”

“Yes, I’m really not eager to get hauled out of the sand if something happens.” He likewise chuckled and jokingly pantomimed removing armor. 

“All right.” Varric chuckled. “The four of you plod across the sand to the statues, which obviously someone had to have built, so their very existence is your first clue. Furthermore, there is a remnant of a stone road near the base of the statues.”

“So there definitely was someone out here,” said Hawke. “Can we tell anything else about the statues or the road? How old they are? Any details?” 

Varric checked his notes. “The statues are about three times as tall as an actual person. They are facing each other, although their facial features aren’t particularly distinct, and they each hold a large hammer. The road fragment more or less connects them. They look to be quite old - possibly pre-Divine. The road is composed of several stones which have been fitted together like puzzle pieces.”

“How many are there and are they at all close together?” Cullen wanted to know. 

“At least fifty, and yes. In fact, they’re so fitted together that at first glance it’s easy to mistake them for one continuous piece of stone. Roll for perception.”

“Oh, me? Uh…” With a bit of guidance from Josephine, he rolled the necessary dice and, after consulting with his sheet, announced his total with a note of cautious optimism. “Fourteen?” 

“Not bad. You can discern some cracks between the different pieces of stone. The other three of you can also roll for perception and see if you can spot anything more.”

There was a pause as they each set to work rolling. “Not much help,” grumbled Hawke. “Twelve.”

“I’m at sixteen,” said Bethany. “Don’t know if that’s much help either.” 

Fenris peered at his dice, then at the sheet he and Hawke had put together before the gathering. “It looks like my intelligence stat folds into the dice roll, is that correct?”

“Right. You add the dice roll to your stat,” Varric replied.

“That puts me at nineteen, then.”

“Okay. You, therefore, make the observation that the corner stone nearest the eastern statue is colored differently from the rest, and can possibly be moved.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant,” said Bethany. “Well done, Fenris. I mean, my brother, the Champion,” she added with a laugh. “Now, can I use my magic to check for traps or anything? Or even use a spell to move the stone?” 

“Good thinking, Sunshine. Roll again for perception, and this time add the roll to your magic stat _and_ your intelligence stat.” Varric smiled at her, pleased to see her enjoying herself.

She returned the smile as she rolled. “Let’s see. Ooh, my roll was a sixteen, that’s good. Plus those two stats… twenty-three!” 

There was a smattering of applause from the rest of the party. “Nice work. Okay, that was high enough for you to determine that there are no traps,” Varric reported, again studying his notes. “Not high enough for you to move the stone with magic, but enough that you can loosen the mortar a bit. Maybe these big strong warriors have some use.”

“I hope so! And if not, we do have an ogre.” She chuckled. “All right, I’ll stand aside and let them work.”

“What would we roll for?” Cullen inquired. 

“You’re both going to roll, then add the roll to your strength and dexterity stats, and then add your totals together.”

Fenris’s number came out to be a respectable nineteen to which Cullen was able to add a twenty-four. “Forty-three, I hope that’s enough.” 

Varric peered through his reading glasses at his own papers, and nodded. “The number you had to beat was forty, so well done, warriors,” he replied. “Between the two of you, you’re able to lift the stone and discover a very old box. It contains a map, a couple of ancient coins, and an unused torch, because whoever left it was considerate.”

“That is considerate,” Bethany agreed with another laugh. “Oh, well done. That map is a lifesaver.”

“Hopefully,” said Cullen. “With any luck it will lead us to our objective and not our doom.” 

“You take the box and its contents back to the rest of the group,” Varric continued, “and everyone studies the map in turn. Check your sheets at times like this - look at your inventory, the spells and skills you each know, and see who’s most likely to make sense of what’s on the map.”

“Someone might have something more useful, but I have some wilderness survival skills,” said Josephine, volunteering her sheet. “Would any of these help?” 

Varric took the sheet, and nodded. “That does give you some experience with reading maps,” he said. “The position of the sun gives you a basic sense of the cardinal directions, so you can determine that the map leads to something east of your current location. However, all you can see in that direction from where you are is sand, so you’ll be walking for a while.”

“In that case, perhaps we should remain here until morning,” said Cassandra. “If this desert is anything like a real desert, it could get very cold. Not to mention all manner of creatures come out at night.”

“And it will probably be easier to tell the directions when the sun is up,” Michel added. 

“All very good points,” said Varric. “If you want, we can do a time skip to the next morning, and in the meantime take a five-minute break for drink refills or bathroom visits.”

“An excellent plan,” said Cullen. “I’ll fetch the refills, as promised.”

“And also check your phone to make sure Cole and his friends aren’t having any problems with the little ones, most likely,” teased Dorian. 

“You need help to the bathroom, Bethy?” asked Hawke. 

“No, but this break is well-timed - my own little one in the making is demanding my time.” She chuckled, rubbing her stomach a little. “I’ll be back in just a moment. This is all wonderful fun, by the way, I’m looking forward to seeing where it goes,” she added, gesturing to the table to indicate their sheets and dice. 

“You need anything to eat, Sunshine?” her husband asked.

“Just more tea is all I need at the moment, I think, but I’ll let you know if that changes,” she promised. 

“All right. Incidentally, everyone, this is going to end up being longer than I realized,” the game master admitted, “so we might need to continue next Saturday. Maybe start earlier in the day.”

“Is anyone surprised that a Skyhold event turned out to be bigger, grander, and longer than anyone planned?” Leliana said with a chuckle. “I know I will gladly make sure I have time again next week if the rest of you are on board.” 

“Let me check my schedule,” said Blackwall teasingly. “Oh, wait. I’m free.”

There was a general laugh at that. “One of the many perks of the summer session,” said Josephine. “And, for those among us with children, one of the many perks of having live-in babysitters, I’m sure.” 

“True, but I don’t want to abuse the privilege,” Evvy mused. “We can always set up the playpen in here if the sitting team has plans. It saves Cullen the trouble of calling to check on things, anyway.”

“Good point.” Cullen laughed. “Not that I imagine the Partners in Crime and company will object, but I do feel bad bothering them constantly with my phone calls and texts. Maybe they’ll appreciate a week off.” 

“They’re nice enough to help us out when we need them, I don’t want them to think we’re taking advantage.”

“The presidents of your fan club, your chief shippers, think you’re taking advantage?” Dorian joked. “Perish the thought.” 

“Well, I admit they wouldn’t _likely_ see it that way,” she allowed. “But still. They’re young adults with their own social lives, they shouldn’t be asked to do this too often.”

"Very thoughtful as always, Cinderella. Do you think Prince Charming can keep his focus on the game if both of his princesses are here, though?"

"I am still in the room," Cullen pointed out. 

“He might have to hold Skye instead of a sword. Otherwise, I think he can manage,” Evvy replied, chuckling.

"Warrior Dad," said Josephine, giggling. "I like it."

"Warrior Father, Unicorn Whisperer Mother… sounds about right." Dorian likewise laughed. 

“Something like that,” Evvy agreed with another laugh. “Only in Skyhold.”

“Only in Skyhold,” Cullen echoed. “Personally, I feel bad for Anthony - he has a Warrior Mother and an Ogre Father. A very confusing couple, that.” Cassandra merely groaned again, rolling her eyes playfully. 

“Gorf have baby!” Mahanon replied cheerfully. “Didn’t even need kiss from pretty girl! Still want though.”

“Keep trying,” said Cassandra dryly. “I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. Incidentally, it’s a good thing the children aren’t a bit older; they’d think we lost our minds.” 

“By the time they’re old enough to know what’s going on around here,” said Blackwall, sagely, “they’ll think this is _normal_. The challenge will be when they go out into the world and think regular people are the weirdos.”

“‘Wait, you mean your teachers _don’t_ sing and dance on the regular?’” Dorian said, putting on a fake high voice. “‘What do you _do_ all day then?’” 

Michel chuckled. “Other students… read books and use computers?” he offered. “Strange, I know.”

“Very bizarre indeed,” said Leliana, looking supremely amused. “And the fact that they live in a castle will probably garner some curiosity from people the older they get, I’m sure.” 

Josephine took a turn at giggling. “You mean you live in regular houses?” she joked. “You don’t even have a courtyard? But where do you hold all of your weddings?”

That in turn netted even more laughter. “You know,” said Cullen when he recovered, “I’m always worried that eventually my children won’t want to be seen with me because they’ll think I’m uncool. This conversation makes me think it may actually turn out that the opposite is true - we might all look like rock stars in comparison to everyone else they meet.” 

“Well, I think that’s fairly obvious, Curly,” said Varric with a grin. “We _are_ rock stars, some of us - including you. Did we ever officially name the aging boy band?”

“There were a few ideas, but nothing official, I don’t think. It’s been a while since we’ve done a boy band number, we may need to stage a comeback.” He chuckled. 

“Maybe to celebrate the start of the fall term or something,” Varric suggested. “All right, are we ready to get back to the game?”

“Just waiting on a few stragglers to return, I think,” said Leliana.

Those few stragglers reappeared a minute or so later, at which point everyone took a seat and gave Varric their rapt attention. “So you wait until the next morning, and meanwhile you sort of hang around the fire and tell stories about your past exploits and Gorf tries to get a kiss from a pretty girl. At least that’s what I assume happens. The next day you all set off due east. I want you all to now roll only your four-sided dice and give me the party’s entire score to determine how long it takes you to get there and what condition you’re in when you arrive.”

“Ah, the pressure is on,” Leliana said playfully. She herself rolled a four, as did Josephine, Fenris, and Michel. Everyone else rolled twos and threes, save for Dorian, who looked incredibly sulky at his roll of one. All told, the party’s score came to thirty-nine, which Leliana reported to Varric, blue eyes wide with anticipation. 

“Okay, that’s pretty good,” he said, consulting his notes. “It takes you about five hours to reach the destination, by which point there is some serious heat exhaustion happening, so before you do any exploring you find some shade and sit down to have some lunch. There are a couple of gurns frolicking in the distance but so far they’re staying away. You sit down on what seem to be some stone steps carved into the side of a cliff, and after you eat you’re probably going to want to see where they go.”

“Without a doubt.” It was Cullen who spoke, but everyone looked intrigued. “Is there anything we have to do while we’re waiting to recover? Anything we have to roll?” 

“No, but you can talk to each other if you want.”

“Oh, perfect, my character is obviously going to fuss over Victoria and make sure she’s all right - _are you well, my love, did you drink enough water?_ That sort of thing. I’m sure you all can imagine it.” 

“Even as fictional characters, they’re still so cute it’s stupid,” Bull deadpanned. “For my part, Sillat is going to meditate and talk about fish climbing trees.” He paused to take in their reactions. “It’s a metaphor.”

“You’ll get used to it,” said Josephine, having experienced Sillat’s unique brand of speech in the last game.

“Well, while all this is going on, can I practice my lute without drawing attention from the horrible desert creatures?” Dorian wanted to know. “Because naturally I need to stay in practice.” 

“Can’t promise it, but you can try rolling for dexterity,” Varric offered. 

“If we get attacked by gurns because you feel the need to play the lute, I will punch you,” Cassandra said matter-of-factly.

“Fine. You ask so much of me. But don’t expect an autograph.” 

“Roll the twenty-sider, Sparkler, and add it to your dexterity and charisma stats.”

He rolled and gave a little laugh of approval. “I’ve made up for my previous roll of one with a twenty,” he declared, looking pleased. 

“And with your stats…” Varric stole his sheet briefly. “Okay. Your music does, in fact, attract the gurns. They draw close to the group and lie down in the sand, watching you with absolutely mesmerized eyes. You have become the gurn charmer.”

There was a ripple of laughter and Dorian gave a playful bow. “Even gurns can appreciate good music. I shall add it to my resume.” 

“The gurns eventually fall asleep, and the party recovers enough to climb the stairs. You find a grouping of four pillars outside of what seems to be an elaborate tomb.”

More than a few people gave a dramatic “ooooh” at this declaration. “Anything we can glean from the pillars or anything that can be discerned about the tomb’s entrance?” asked Solas. 

“You observe that words are carved on each of the pillars. The tomb is sealed and has no clear means of being opened.”

“What do they say?” Cullen added. “Anything we can understand?” 

From behind the cardboard screen which shielded his notes from prying eyes, Varric held up a small envelope. He opened it and poured the contents - four slips of paper - into the center of the table. “Each pillar contains what looks to be two sentences,” he replied. “However, the actual writing has to be deciphered, because right now the sentences make no sense at all.”

Those who were closest to where Varric was seated took the slips of paper and pushed them into the center of the table so the others could lean forward to see them. What was written on each sheet seemed to be a jumble of letters. 

“This looks like a word puzzle,” observed Dorian. “A cryptogram, perhaps?” 

“That’s what it looks like to me,” Michel agreed. “But in what language will the correct wording be?”

“Friendly reminder that the game master only reads and writes common,” Varric replied. “So I can promise that due to personal limitations, the answer will be in common.”

“Oh, you should have consulted with us,” Leliana said with a grin, gesturing between herself and Michel. “We could have helped you come up with an Orlesian version.”

“All the same, I’m grateful it’s in common,” said Dorian. He pointed at one of the letters which was all by itself. “This is either an ‘a’ or an ‘i,’” he noted. “Given the composition of the rest of the puzzle, let’s try an ‘a’ to start and go from there.” 

Evvy got up and retrieved some blank paper from the staff room printer. “I think we may find ourselves doing a bit of trial and error,” she said. “Let’s break into teams and each tackle one of the puzzles, or else we might be here all night.”

“An excellent idea,” said Dorian, passing one of the scraps of paper to her. “Four puzzles, four teams. We’ll have this done in no time.” 

“I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee while you all work,” said Varric. “We can never have too much of that handy.”

“Truer words were never spoken,” said Blackwall, which elicited a chuckle.

While Varric set to the task of making coffee, the players split up into the four requisite teams. Cullen, Evvy, Cass, and Mahanon formed a team, as did the Hawkes. Meanwhile, Leliana, Solas, and Michel teamed up while the final group consisted of Dorian, Bull, Blackwall, and Josephine. Dorian’s hunch about the letter “a” proved correct in his team’s puzzle and, through some deduction, they were then able to guess a few uses of the word “and”. Cullen and Evvy’s team were able to do likewise and soon both groups thought they noticed a common thread.

“If I don’t miss my guess,” said Dorian after a few minutes of work, “it looks like this word is shaping up to be Fairel’s name.” 

“I think you’re right!” said Josie, peering over his shoulder. “Do you think the letters are the same in each puzzle? Does G stand for A in all of them, for example?”

"An excellent question. As Evvy pointed out, some trial and error may come into play here." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "But even if the letters are different in each puzzle, perhaps we can start to notice the patterns."

“Let’s try using the letters in ‘Fairel’ in all of the puzzles and see if it gets us anywhere,” Bull proposed. “Worst case scenario, it doesn’t.”

"Exactly," Cullen agreed. "This is why we use pencils. But if it does turn out to be right, it should help us crack these codes wide open."

Several more minutes of pencil scratching and muttering later, the puzzles were cracked and Varric was rewarding them all with fresh coffee. “Nice work, teams. So now you have completed stanzas, and you should examine the words to see if you notice anything… interesting.”

There was a pause. “They rhyme,” said Hawke. “This is a poem, isn’t it?”

"A poem about Fairel," Cullen said, nodding and looking over the papers. "It looks like he had at least two sons, judging by the wording. So is this Fairel real as our Orlesian sponsor seems to think or is this just some sort of morality tale?"

“I think the better question,” said Solas, “is what significance this poem has to the tomb. Why inscribe an encrypted poem on stone pillars outside of a tomb in what might be called the middle of nowhere?”

"Is it possible this wasn't always the middle of nowhere?" Bethany suggested. "Some of the lines of this poem make it seem like there was much more here than what we're seeing."

“Like a colony, perhaps.” Fenris nodded. “Maybe we need to break into the tomb in order to get answers - maybe it isn’t really a tomb at all.”

"That's good thinking, very Champion-like," said Hawke with a grin. "Of course, we should check to make sure there isn't something in this tomb or whatever it may be that can reduce us to cinders."

“Well, look through your skills and spells and all that good stuff. Come up with a plan,” said Varric. 

"Leliana and I might have some spells that could help," said Bethany. "Not quite sure how the arcane warrior class works. What about our rogues?"

“I’ve got a lockpicking skill,” Hawke offered. “Maybe I can break in?”

“What if the lines are important to the opening?” asked Bull. “Maybe we have to, I dunno, read them out loud in the right order or something. The thing could be sealed with magic.”

“That’s an interesting thought,” said Cullen. “It seems pretty clear that the poem is telling a chronological story, so that may be the key. Literally. Well, we can certainly try; the worst that happens is… nothing.” 

“Hopefully,” said Solas, dryly. 

“I’ll do it,” said Fenris. “The rest of you clear back a bit - that way if something unfriendly comes out or there’s an otherwise unpleasant result, it’ll hit me first. My spell resistance is high.” He cleared his throat and, as though reciting lines from a play, read out the poem.

> _The sun burned above oceans of sand,_
> 
> _but in the sand was Stone, strong and true._
> 
> _Fairel hewed the Stone, and built—as great as any thaig in the deep._
> 
> _And with his sons' help, he ensured the thaig prospered and grew._

“With these words,” said Varric, “the door of the tomb slides down into the sand and out of sight. Nothing comes out, but there’s a faintly greenish light emanating from inside.”

“Uh, before we go in there,” said Bull, “what’s a thaig?”

“I remember reading about this in Genitivi’s book on myths of Thedas,” said Cullen, leaning forward. “A thaig is an underground settlement, isn’t it? The legends say they were dwarven.”

“Really? Does that mean Fairel is a dwarf?” said Bethany. 

“Certainly sounds like it. All right, let’s see what’s going on inside - anybody got a torch or a light spell?” asked Blackwall.

“Oh, I think I do,” said Leliana, consulting her spell list. “Yes, here it is. So I’ll cast that.” 

“All right. So you enter, and it is indeed a tomb,” said Varric, “as evidenced by the presence of a single stone sarcophagus in the middle of the main room. Also present are a handful of ancient-looking cups and bowls, a shelf full of books that are probably going to fall apart if anyone touches them, and a locked chest. The whole place smells like it’s been sealed for hundreds of years.”

“I don’t like this,” said Cassandra, shaking her head. “Tombs that have been sealed for this long usually _should_ be sealed.”

“It might not be a bad idea to check it for traps before we touch anything,” Dorian agreed. 

“Smart idea. Roll for perception, everybody, and add the rolls to your intelligence stats.” Surprisingly, however, the tomb was not even slightly dangerous - not a single trap was in evidence. “Also, your perception enables you to determine that the locked chest is not enchanted in any way.”

“I propose we leave the sarcophagus untouched,” said Evvy, appearing to share Cass’s unease. “I think we’re on the border of sacrilege just being in here. But as long as we’re here, we might as well see what’s in that chest.”

“I’m on it,” said Hawke. “Eric Bathras and his lockpicks, at your service.”

“I have no doubt you’ll have this lock open in no time, dearest,” said Bethany in character, stifling a giggle. A little more seriously, she added, “And we’re certain the chest isn’t booby trapped?”

“I’ve been wondering about that, actually,” said Bull, smiling a little. “It’s… interesting.” 

“The chest is confirmed not booby-trapped,” Varric replied with a nod. “Eric, greatest of storytellers, roll for initiative and add it to your dexterity stat to see how long this takes.”

“Oh, I like this narrator guy,” said Hawke in a gravelly sort of voice that was obviously supposed to be a facsimile of Varric’s own. “He appreciates talent.” She focused on her dice then, blowing on them for luck as she rolled. “Okay, thirteen plus… four. Seventeen.” 

“Okay, it takes you about ten minutes and there’s probably a little bit of swearing under your breath, but you finally get the chest open. Inside you find fifteen ancient gold coins, two gems, another map, and a fragment of what seems to be a key.”

There were several interested murmurs. “A fragment of a key?” said Cullen. “Only a fragment?”

“Why do I have a feeling we’re going to be sent all around searching for the other pieces?” Cassandra noted. 

“Because you’ve read all my books, General,” Varric reminded her.

“Well, let’s have a look at the map,” said Blackwall. “Maybe it’ll direct us to a hotel so we don’t have to sleep on sand.”

Everyone laughed at that. “I like how you think,” said Hawke, who pantomimed gripping the map and opening it up to read it. Her lips twitched as she added, “No idea what I’m looking at. Annie, take over,” and pretended to pass the map to Bethany. 

“Wow.” Varric looked amused. “Clearly, when it comes to making shit up on the fly, there is no substitute for the original.”

“Well, I could make something up and lead us somewhere more lively - like a tavern - but the history lovers in the group would probably be none too happy.” She gestured to Cullen who, with his wide eyes, looked extremely invested in the mystery. 

“Fair enough.” The game master chuckled. “Well, Sunsh-I mean, Annie, any commentary on the map?”

“Hmm.” She too pretended to study it, looking deeply amused. “Given that I know certain things about a certain storyteller, I would imagine it does indeed lead us to another place to find another key fragment?” 

“Right you are. The images and directions on the paper are a little faded, given the age of the document, but it’s been kept safe inside the trunk so it’s still legible. It basically indicates that you’re going to head north from your current location in search of, well, something. Seems to be inside of some kind of rock formation of sorts.”

“Interesting,” said Dorian, tapping his fingers together. “I’ll admit I’m curious. Anything else here we want to investigate or possibly loot before we depart?” 

“You’re welcome to look around,” Varric replied, “but in the interest of getting at least halfway through this before midnight, I’ll cut to the chase and clarify that there’s nothing else here of particular value.”

“Well, that’s good to know at least. So shall we be off then?”

“I think so,” Hawke agreed. “Those key fragments aren’t going to find themselves.” 

“You leave the tomb,” Varric said, glancing at his notes. “Dorian’s gurn fans are still there, and they seem to have summoned a few of their fellows and are basically blocking your exit because they’re begging for a concert.”

Dorian looked surprised, but amused, and spread his hands. “I suppose there’s nothing to do but give the people what they want, then, isn’t there? Or, in this case, give the gurns what they want.” 

“As long as the rest of the party’s okay with it, feel free.”

“Sounds to me like a good time for another bathroom break,” Bull joked.

“You mean you would leave while I grace this barren wasteland with my musical genius?” Dorian said, clapping his hands to his chest. “ _Amatus_ , you wound me.” 

“Well, I assumed you weren’t going to _actually_ sing. But Sillat will probably have some philosophical observations about your performance, if that makes you feel better.”

“I suppose it depends on what those observations are, but I’ll take it.”

“Also, in this school, I always assume people _are_ actually going to sing,” Leliana added, chuckling. 

“Well, those of you who want to hear what Freddie Mercury would sing to a group of giant lumps on legs, stick around,” said Varric. “Those of you who aren’t interested, or whose internal plumbing has other ideas, take five.”

“As much as I would love to discover the answer to that question, I am going to take five,” said Bethany, likewise chuckling. “But I am begging the artists at the table to please draw or paint that image at some point.” 

“Consider it done,” Evvy promised. “Maybe we can tag team on that, Hawke, since I bet you have ideas too.”

“Oh, you bet. I’m half tempted to do art for a few different moments from this campaign and the last, in fact - maybe as Wintersend gifts, who knows. But yeah, the image of bard Dorian singing to a bunch of gurns is pretty hard to pass up, so I’m definitely in.” 

“Ooh, what if we recreate the whole campaign as a comic book? That would be fun!”

“Oh, I love this plan. I’ve never created art for a comic book before, it sounds like the perfect challenge. The two of us can have something like that done in no time.” 

“The students will love it.” Josephine laughed. “We’ll have to get a nice big print run made.”

“Maybe the artists can even do some autographed copies,” Cullen suggested, smiling at Evvy. 

“I’m sure that can be arranged.” She looked amused. “Well, Dorian, what _are_ you going to sing for the gurns?”

“And I bet that’s a question you never thought you’d have to answer,” Michel added jokingly.

Dorian laughed in agreement. “Let’s see… I will pull out my lute and begin a song that sounds suspiciously like ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ for my unexpected and enormous fans.” 

“One of the gurns pulls out a lighter - best not try to figure out where from - and sways back and forth with the music,” said Varric. “The others all headbang at the appropriate moment like they’re in the movie _Wayne’s World_.”

Practically everyone snorted in laughter at the mental image, no one more so than Dorian. “You know,” he said when he had recovered, “these gurns would fit in quite well at Skyhold Academy. They clearly have excellent musical taste.” 

“Also some pretty great rhythm. So your party starts traveling north, slowly to allow the missing members to catch up,” Varric continued. “The gurns decide to follow like a bunch of weird groupies; one may in fact be wearing a t-shirt with your face on it, although this could also be a mass hallucination caused by the desert heat.”

This fact was explained in amusement to those who returned from their break, leading to quite a bit of laughter and several discussions on how to capture this moment in the planned comic book. At last, when the entire group was back together, their character continued their northward trek with the gurns as their shadows. 

The long and arduous journey of about three minutes brought them into a rocky canyon in the desert. There was another tomb down here, with some spiders who had to be killed (Michel’s bear form took care of them without much difficulty), but before they began exploring the tomb situation they were distracted by the presence of a dog. “Loyal Betyar,” Varric informed them, “is minding the merchant’s stall while his master is off getting coffee or something, so if you want to purchase any supplies to bolster what you’ve already got, here’s your chance.”

“Wait, we can purchase the items from the dog?” Cullen inquired, lips twitching. “Is this the Hissing Wastes or Ferelden?”

“Perhaps he keeps inventory using paw prints or something,” Hawke suggested dryly. 

“If Duke can play cards, I don’t see why Betyar can’t run a shop,” Fenris noted. “What does he have in his inventory, Varric?”

“Mostly some healing potions, a few daggers, and one extremely fancy hat.”

“Oh, good, I’ll take those healing potions,” said Cassandra.

“And I’ll take the hat,” said Dorian, chuckling. “If only Cole were here, he’d approve.” 

“Gorf wanted hat,” said Mahanon in a sulky tone. “Doggy no have shiny rocks?”

“Uh…” Varric shuffled through his papers. “Sure, let’s go with that. Today only, a special freebie, he has one very shiny piece of quartz. It’s all yours.”

“Gorf get shiny rock!”

“Oh, and the hat too,” said Dorian. “Far be it from me to deny an ogre a fine accessory.” 

“It okay. Gorf can’t really wear hats because of horns.” Mahanon waved him off cheerfully, pretending not to notice Michel and Blackwall almost choking on their suppressed laughter. “Gorf rather have shiny rock. Shiny singer can keep hat.”

Cassandra gave a long-suffering amused sigh as she added her potions to her inventory and Dorian shook his head as he did likewise for his newly acquired hat. “I hope you know that we are all quite thoroughly mad,” he remarked fondly. 

“A little madness now and then is relished by the wisest men,” said Solas, of all people. “Meanwhile, let’s return our attention to that tomb, yes?”

“In all the excitement, I nearly forgot about the tomb,” Leliana observed with a laugh. “Yes, let’s. What does this one require, another one of the poems we deciphered?” 

“You head back through the canyon, though not before giving Betyar a considerable number of what I once heard one of the girls call ‘petty-wetties’,” said Varric, managing to keep a straight face. “The tomb is open this time, although once you step inside the first chamber you once again see four carved stone columns. Three guesses as to what you’re going to have to do.”

“Allow me to hazard a guess and say more word puzzles?” said Dorian. 

“Gorf hoping for interpretive dance,” said Mahanon. Seeing a few of the others give him looks of disbelief, he shrugged. “What? Gorf not allowed to sing.”

“It’s true,” said Cassandra. “Although I fear the dancing may be worse.”

“You and I should go on tour together sometime, my good man,” added Dorian. 

“Gorf will go with shiny singer!” Mahanon sounded delighted. “Gorf can carry heavy things and teach shiny man to sing ogre songs. Shiny man can have kisses from pretty men and Gorf will have kisses from pretty girls.”

“I’m in pain,” Blackwall whispered, clutching his ribs.

“I don’t know why I am surprised anymore, honestly,” said Michel, dabbing at his eyes. “Ah, but I do believe there is work to be done here at this tomb, no? We should probably get to it, once we can all breathe again.” 

“Well said, Champion.” Varric looked like he honestly didn’t know how to react to Gorf. “Okay, so it’s not too different from the previous situation, and therefore I imagine you’ll want to approach it in the same way. Anybody want a drink refill while you’re puzzling it out?”

Cullen, the designated beverage-fetcher, was only too happy to take the time to check his phone and make sure Cole and the Partners in Crime hadn’t tried to call while making sure everyone had a refresh. In his absence, the puzzles were beginning to take shape, once again revealing Fairel’s name. 

“I like that the name gives us something to work with,” Josephine commented. “It’s like the key to the solution, since we can be reasonably sure it will appear at least once.”

“Yes, I can’t imagine how much guesswork we’d have to do without it,” Leliana agreed. “Granted, we still have a lot of guessing to do, but at least we know we’re on the right track.”

“This is like playing _Wheel of Fortune_ ,” Bull joked. “Can I buy a vowel?”

“We’re lucky Fairel’s name has three of them,” Dorian observed, chuckling. “And that several among our rank, myself included, keep in practice with puzzles.” 

“How long did it take you to create these, Varric?” Michel wanted to know. 

“Not very. Found a helpful website that lets you type in the original quote and it scrambles it for you,” he replied. “This internet thing does have its uses.”

“And here I thought the internet was just a fad and it’ll pass,” said Hawke, smiling impishly at her best friend. 

“It’s lasted a little longer than I expected,” the game master conceded. “I guess it might be sticking around for a while.”

After a few more minutes of deciphering, the group completed their work, and Fenris once again read the lines aloud:

> _After many years Fairel, greatest of Paragons, could not bear life's burden._
> 
> _And with the burden growing, he called his sons to his bedside._
> 
> _He bade each son swear he would take care of his brother,_
> 
> _and the brothers swore, and mourned when their father returned to the Stone._

“To the Stone?” interrupted Blackwall.

“Old dwarven stories say that they believed they were born from the Stone - basically the planet itself - and returned to it when they died,” Varric explained. “Assuming they really existed, it’s an interesting idea about the afterlife. Nobody knows if they did or not, and the Stone isn’t talking. Anyway, you hear a rumbling, and a door you didn’t even notice once again sinks down into the ground, revealing the existence of a second chamber, and just like last time you find a sarcophagus and a chest.”

“And let me guess,” said Bull, looking quietly delighted, “like the last one, this one isn’t booby trapped either?” 

“Why, Tiny, that would be telling,” said Varric mildly. “You have to do the investigative thing and find out.”

As before, everyone rolled for perception and added the appropriate stat. It was a little dicey (pun not intended) thanks to a few bad rolls and a few low intelligence stats not helping boost the total very much, but after a few moments of calculation, they presented a fairly respectable score. “Well, guess what,” said Varric. “This one _is_ booby-trapped… however, the trap is so old that it basically falls apart when Cassandra’s character glares at it. You open the chest to find another map, another key fragment, and some more gold coins. Also a silver ring that seems to carry a minor lightning enchantment.”

“Well, I would say to the victor goes the spoils, but the hero of the hour seems to already have a deadly enough glare, no need to add lightning,” said Dorian, teasingly glancing over at Cassandra. She rolled her eyes in reply, but looked amused.

“And meanwhile, we have another map,” said Hawke. “Which I’d bet leads to another tomb. How many tombs does one guy need?” It was difficult to tell whether this was in character or not. 

“I can’t imagine it’s the same man buried in all of them,” said Josephine, thoughtfully. “Is there any significance to the sarcophagi, Varric?”

He paused, glancing at his notes, and shrugged. “Going by what I read about the historical record, no. They were just burial sites for people who lived in the colony.”

“Hmm. Curious.” This from Cullen. “I guess we should be off to the next tomb then and see what we can find. But when this game is over, I’m very interested in that historical record.” 

“The book I used is in the library, Curly. I wrote down the title for you.” Varric chuckled. “I thought maybe Champion’s friend at the university might have some insight about it, and I know you email him about stuff like this.”

“Oh, thank you, I appreciate that. I’m curious about the substance and origins of these poems, I’m wondering if maybe they…” He paused, glancing around. “Although I doubt anyone wants a history lecture while we’re here to go on a quest, so I’ll leave that for later.” 

There was a general chuckle. “So the newest map directs you even farther north, and you find yourselves staring up at the partially completed statue of Emperor Florian - which, yes, really is in the Hissing Wastes,” Varric added. “Tradition dictated that as the Emperor of Orlais, he had to have a statue of himself made somewhere, so he ordered it carved out of the stone in the Wastes where he would never have to look at it. After Celene took the throne, construction ceased.”

“That’s true,” said Cullen, apparently having forgotten his own previous statement about not going into a history lecture. “It’s called the Colossus of Orlais. Emperor Florian wasn’t fond of his own image, hence the part about not wanting to ever look at it. It was quite the costly project, as I’m sure you can imagine. It took hundreds of miners, dozens of sculptors, and… and I’m doing it again, I’m so sorry.” 

Evvy chuckled, and patted his hand. “There, there, dear. It’s not that it’s not interesting, but you don’t want someone to get annoyed and turn you back into a unicorn.” Her eyes twinkled.

“No, definitely not.” He likewise chuckled. “But at least you’d be here to talk to me. That being said, please no one get any clever ideas and try it.” He was looking specifically at Dorian.

“I would never,” he said. “My magical talents are more musical than mischievous, fear not. Oh, speaking of which, are my fans still with us, Varric?” 

“The fangurns are indeed still within earshot and eager to follow the shiny man with the lute,” Varric confirmed. There was a general snort at the term “fangurns.”

“Marvelous. So at any rate, we’re here in front of an unattractive and unfinished statue. Curious place for a dwarven map to lead us, so I’m assuming there’s another tomb somewhere amongst this abandoned construction project?” 

“There just might be. Everybody roll for perception and add your totals.”

Once again there were more than a few low rolls, but Cullen - as if being granted a little extra luck here at the sight of something historical - more than made up for them with a natural twenty, much to his delight. The total score of the party made it over a hundred thanks to his points, and some high rolls from Leliana, Josephine, and Cassandra. 

“Okay. The good news is, you do indeed spot the entrance to the Colossus Tomb,” Varric said. “The bad news is, you also spot a group of wannabe grave robbers who are basically trying to beat you to the treasure. They might be working for your employer’s rival, or they might just be weirdos, it’s hard to tell from where you’re standing. You can, however, tell that they aren’t pleased to see you.”

“Oh dear, that’s not good,” said Josephine. “How many are there?” 

“Nine. They’re armed. Discuss as a team how you want to proceed.”

The entire group leaned in nearly as one to begin speaking. It was Hawke who spoke first. “Well, we’ve got them outnumbered,” she said. “We’ve got quite a few decent fighters among us and a few mages - we could probably take them on.”

“Is there any chance we can talk them down, do you suppose?” Bethany wanted to know. “I mean, I have a few healing spells, so I could probably patch us up all right, but I’m not eager to find out.” 

“How violent are they, Varric?” asked Blackwall.

“On a scale of 1 to 10, I’d say about an 8.”

“Mm, sounds like a chat’s out of the question then,” said Bethany. “Mind you, I’m not entirely surprised. So I guess we can either fight them or see if maybe this tomb actually is booby trapped and wait for them to spring the trap for us.” 

“While you’re deciding how to proceed,” Varric continued idly, “the grave robbers have started advancing on your group.” He adopted a sort of grizzled bass voice. “Oi, this is our claim and we ain’t sharin’. You got thirty seconds to turn around and hit the sand before we bury you in it.”

“Now see here,” said Dorian briskly, “I don’t know what you’re expecting to find, but so far we’ve found little that would interest you in our ventures and I would imagine the same is true here. Not to mention, we outnumber you, so why don’t you run along?” 

“Oh, look, the sparkly one has a mouth on him. I think a couple of you would be welcome to stay and play… we could have some right fun with you. But I’m not sure you’d like the game we have in mind.”

Cullen shifted in order to shield Evvy as though the bandits were actually in the room; Hawke pantomimed her character doing likewise for Bethany’s character, drawing an invisible weapon as she did so. “I don’t think anyone here’s interested,” she said in Eric’s gruff voice. “But Mirabelle here” — she nodded to said invisible weapon — “she’s a sucker for dumb and ugly.”

“At these apparently provoking words,” said Varric, in his own voice again, “the grave robbers start advancing with their own weapons in hand. Each of you roll your eight-sided die, then add the result to your combat stat.”

Everybody was intent on their dice for a while and the silence was broken only by the occasional muttered number as everyone added their scores. Bethany’s roll was the worst - she cringed as her roll came up 1 - but her combat stat was enough to get her up to four and no one’s total was lower than that. Each pair of eyes looked to Varric expectantly as he rolled his own dice and consulted his notes. 

“All right.” He shook his head. “The bad news is, you are not strong enough to take on the grave robbers in a fair fight - and they’re not exactly fine upstanding citizens, so this fight will be anything but fair.” There was an expectant sort of twinkle in his eyes, however.

“I know that look.” Bethany chuckled. “What do you have up your sleeve, dear? Something to help us, I hope?” 

Varric winked. “The _good_ news is, before the robbers can get close enough to start attacking, they find themselves being set upon by a collective of seven extremely angry gurns who do not take kindly to their musical idol being threatened.”

There was a pause as everyone absorbed that, until Dorian broke the silence. “Ha!” He looked both amused and triumphant at once. “I knew I liked those creatures.”

Bethany laughed, clapping her hands together. “That’s brilliant! Oh, bless them, they’re like animal versions of the Partners in Crime and even here Dorian gets to be a ray of sunshine.” She laughed all over again, the others joining in. 

“So with the grave robbers no longer a problem,” Varric continued, looking very obviously pleased by the reactions, “your path to the tomb is clear.”

“May I suggest,” said a highly amused Leliana, “that we not all go inside? I think that in return for the… unorthodox rescue, Dorian should stay outside with the gurns and play music for them as thanks.”

“Ah, yes, you’re right,” said Dorian, preening a little. “For their heroics, I think the gurns are more than entitled to a sampling of my greatest hits. Just a sample, mind you, otherwise we would be here for weeks.” 

“The rest of you find the third tomb to be sealed up in a manner that looks very familiar, including the presence of four stone column things,” said Varric. “How they escaped being damaged, destroyed, or noticed by the assorted construction workers is not clear, but you’re able to copy down the bizarre letters without much trouble.” He dispensed the next puzzle.

The group was growing quite adept at the cryptograms, so while Dorian serenaded his gurn friends, the rest of the party was able to make short work of the next part of the poem.

“The story continues,” said Cullen as everyone presented their lines. “But it feels like something is missing, or is out of order perhaps.” 

“Yeah, I think somebody put the wrong map in the wrong tomb, or something.” Bull shrugged. “Oh, well, it’ll make sense when we have the whole thing, I guess. Do your thing, Kestrel.”

With a chuckle, Fenris obliged.

> _Fairel, Paragon, fled from the strife his brilliance created,_
> 
> _The strife that destroyed thaigs, sundered houses, from weapons that clan used against clan._
> 
> _His own clan and his two sons followed Fairel to the pitiless surface,_
> 
> _The surface where they would hide from the war that took their home._

“So Fairel was a dwarf, and he brought - what, his family to the surface?” Blackwall mused. “To get away from a war, by the sound of things.”

“‘From the strife his brilliance had created,’” Bethany repeated. “That’s… both cryptic and very sad. I wonder what he did that caused such a thing. Or if the writer is just being poetic, who knows.” 

“Who indeed. Perhaps you’ll learn more as things progress,” said Varric. “The chest, incidentally, contains exactly what you think it does.”

“Cookies and a pot of coffee?” Cullen suggested dryly. “Or more likely, I’m thinking it’s perhaps another key fragment and map.” 

“Cookies and a pot of coffee would be nice, but probably pretty disgusting after a few ages. Yes, another key and map combo.”

“Color me shocked,” said Leliana with a smile. “I suppose we’d better interrupt Dorian’s concert to go investigate. I wonder how many more tombs we have to find.” 

“I’m wondering whether we shouldn’t make camp for the night,” said Michel, pragmatically. “That’s been three, and we haven’t actually stopped to rest any time recently.”

“Smart man,” Varric noted.

“That’s true,” said Josephine. “I imagine we’ve been adventuring for a while at this point. And given Dorian’s small army of fans, I also imagine we’ll be safe here for a while.” 

“Should we make this the part where we adjourn?” Evvy suggested. “Let the characters rest up until next Saturday?”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Cullen agreed, checking his watch. “And this seems like a good stopping point. I can’t wait to see where this goes.” 

“All right. Let’s plan on starting around three next time,” said Varric, “to make sure we have plenty of time. I’ll order pizza for us, and if we’re concerned about the student body we can set up a movie night in the great hall to keep them distracted.”

“That sounds perfect,” said Leliana. “And I’m sure they would enjoy that. Maybe we can even let them vote on what movie they want to watch to help them feel involved.” 

“Voting is fine,” said Bull, amused, “but I think we’d better limit their options. Otherwise we’re likely to end up with a fifty-way tie.”

“An excellent point,” Leliana acknowledged with a laugh. “We’ll draw up a list of five or so and let them vote on that. But until then, this was wonderfully good fun, Varric. I agree with Cullen - I can’t wait to see where it goes.” 

“I am but a humble game master-slash-author, living to serve the needs of my players and readers,” said Varric airily. His expression, however, hinted at how pleased he was by the commentary. “I admit I was a little concerned about how the storyline would go over, so this is reassuring.”

“It’s a wonderful adventure,” said Josephine. “The first game was wonderful too, but this one is even more gripping. I’m so impressed with how you manage to work with all of us and our extremely varied characters.” 

“It’s a bit like writing one of my books,” he explained. “I trust the characters to show me where we’re going, and by the time we get there, I’ve figured out what I need to know. Though I will admit I keep being taken by surprise, and I don’t just mean Broody’s visit - those gurns were supposed to be the party’s first real fight, not Dorian’s newest batch of groupies.” He shrugged. “The dice had other ideas, who am I to argue?”

They all laughed at that. “A well-placed natural twenty saves the day,” Hawke noted. “They proved pretty damn useful in that fight against the bandits, that’s for sure.” 

“Which was supposed to be your _second_ real fight. Thus far you guys are 0 for 2,” Varric joked. “Ah well, we can always call this the pacifist campaign or something.”

Another laugh. “You all can thank me later or now,” Dorian replied breezily. “My musical talent is directly responsible for keeping us safe and well-protected.” 

“And entertained. Let’s not forget entertained,” said Bull, grinning at him. “The hallucination of a gurn wearing a t-shirt with your face on it is going to make me laugh every time I remember it.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m not likely to forget it any time soon either.” He chuckled.

“Perhaps Krem can make that into a plush like all those nugs he makes, Bull,” Leliana suggested, laughing behind her hand. 

“I’ll mention it to him. He’ll probably think we’re all crazy, but he might just give it a shot anyway.”

“I think the ship of our students thinking we’re crazy has already sailed,” Dorian noted, amused.

“Eh, sanity is overrated anyway,” said Hawke. 

“Too right. Okay, good game, everyone,” said Varric, stretching. “We’ll pick up next Saturday. Siren, Hawke, if you want to get started on the comic book in the meantime, I’ll type up my notes about tonight and get them to you by Monday.”

“Sounds perfect. I’ve been itching for a new project anyway,” Hawke said with a grin. “Let me know when it’s convenient for you, Evvy, and we’ll start brainstorming.” 

“My schedule is pretty open, with the obvious exception of the toddler,” Evvy replied. “So I’m ready when you are.”

“I for one am very excited to see what you come up with,” said Cullen, beaming. “And I know I’m not alone in that.” 

“Probably character design will be first,” his wife mused. “Can you make sure we have copies of all of your characters’ descriptions, or the pictures if you have them? Except for Eric Bathras, of course, we know what _he_ looks like.” She grinned at Varric. “And probably Annie too.”

“Yes, quite. And if you need help imagining costumes or anything, I’m your girl,” Bethany replied. “I’m sure consulting won’t be too strenuous a task.” 

“That sounds like it would be incredibly helpful, actually. Clothing design is something I’ve never mastered.” Evvy chuckled. “All right, dear, let’s go relieve the Baby-sitters Club.”

“An excellent plan,” said Cullen, offering her his arm and waving with the other hand. “Good night, everyone, thank you for this.” 

The others all gradually peeled off as well, eventually leaving just Varric cleaning up the game while Bethany watched him. “So, how do you like being Annie?” he asked, chuckling.

"I love it." She grinned. "I never knew having an adventure on paper only could be so satisfying. But it probably helps that you're the one at the helm."

“Well, I’m sure it doesn’t hurt. Any special requests for next Saturday’s thrilling conclusion? I only make offers like that to beautiful women who are carrying my baby, so take advantage.”

"Ooh, how lucky am I?" She chuckled, then paused to consider. "Hmm… well, I'm assuming we'll learn about Fairel, so I won't ask that. And I would hope Dorian's fangurns make a reappearance. So… is it very corny to ask we all get a happy ending?"

“Not only is it very corny, it’s also what I intended from the start.” He chuckled, folding up his cardboard screen.

"Ah, so you admit you're just as corny as I am," she teased. "But if you have a happy ending planned, what more could I possibly ask for?"

“Your own group of adoring animals?” Varric teased. “I’m sure I could work in something along those lines. A couple august rams, maybe, although there’d be a danger of them being eaten by the gurns.”

"Perhaps Evvy's character can branch out from talking to unicorns and can convince them all to live in harmony. Or Dorian can play 'You're My Best Friend' and they'll all become partners in crime." She giggled. "I do rather like the sound of my own adoring menagerie, I'll admit."

“I’ll see what I can do. Wait, you’re our resident Snow White, I’ll get some desert birds to sit on your shoulders,” he offered.

"Perfect." She laughed. "And I don't even have to sing to get them to show up, so even better."

“No, but I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you did. Come on, you should get some sleep first.”


	6. Varric Runs the World, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The madness continues.

The following Saturday, most of the student body was collected in the great hall for a _Lord of the Rings_ marathon. It was basically a daylong pajama party, with Felix, Krem, and a few of the recent graduates keeping watch, and even the Grey Wardens on duty took turns alternating between watching the gate and watching the movies from the back of the hall. The main staff, meanwhile, gathered once again in the teachers’ lounge for the second half of their dungeon crawl. 

“When last we left our heroes,” said Varric, getting his papers sorted, “they had unlocked a third tomb and found a map which would likely direct them to a fourth. Dorian’s raging fangurns were serving as bodyguards, and everybody decided to take a nap before continuing.”

“When we do the comic book,” said Hawke, “I feel like there definitely needs to be a page dedicated to the hilarious mental image of all of us lying around with the gurns. I can just picture Dorian with his lute, reclining amongst his enormous groupies.” 

There was a slight pause, as though everyone else was now trying to picture the scenario. “Well,” said Blackwall, finally, “it could be worse. They could be - what do they call those things? Wyverns?”

“Oh, yes, there are plenty of unpleasant things in the desert, or so I’ve heard,” said Michel, shuddering a little. “Not a part of Orlais I’ve ever visited nor one I ever want to. Except in fictional adventures, of course.” 

“Wyverns are venomous,” Varric noted. “They still make a cocktail out of wyvern venom, runs forty gold on the black market. Or, you know, so I hear.”

"It's a shame I didn't charm some wyverns as well, then, we could have made a fortune," Dorian joked. 

“You’re doing that anyway,” Varric pointed out. “So, you all wake up reasonably refreshed and eat something, and make your way west to the next map location. Three guesses as to what you find when you get there, and the first two don’t count.”

"Could it perhaps be another puzzle?" Dorian chuckled. "I'll be disappointed if it's not, you know."

“Actually it’s a mariachi band who are hoping to recruit you and Gorf,” replied the game master. “Yes, of course, a sealed tomb and four cryptic pillars. I will pause to let you groan at the repetition, if you’re so inclined.”

Hawke and Bethany glanced at each other, then groaned obligingly. It ended with a laugh on Bethany’s part. 

“As much as I enjoy these puzzles, I’ll admit I’m a little disappointed that it's not a mariachi band,” said Cullen, likewise laughing. “That would have been quite the page in the comic book.” 

“Well, roll for perception and see if anybody notices anything… unusual.”

“Uh oh, the plot thickens,” said Leliana. Her roll was somewhere safely in the middle of the pack, the lowest belonging to poor Josephine with a natural one and the highest going to Michel with nineteen, which went up to twenty-two when his stats were added. 

“Okay… nope, nothing unusual. Except for a few brightly colored birds, who are sitting on top of the carved columns and watching you with great interest,” Varric added casually. “There are three in total - one red, one blue, and one green - and after some contemplation they all fly down and perch themselves on Annie’s shoulders.”

Bethany grinned and folded her hands like Snow White. “It’s a pleasure to be noticed.” She giggled. 

“I suddenly get the distinct suspicion that the game master might be playing favorites,” said Cassandra. She looked more amused than anything, though. 

“Maybe just a little,” Bethany admitted, still smiling. “It was thought that I too might want a group of animal fans. And I definitely did.” 

“Just don’t expect them to protect you from bandits,” said Varric, dispensing the new puzzles. “I tried to make this one a little more challenging, in case you’re getting comfortable.”

“No resting on our laurels for us, I see,” Cullen noted, chuckling. “But I’m confident we’re up for the challenge. Let’s see what else happened in Fairel’s story.” 

They worked in silence for a time, puzzling out the words. “I’m getting a little uncomfortable with this one,” said Evvy at length. “If this word really does translate as _bloodied_ , it doesn’t sound good.”

"I share your foreboding, love," said Cullen as they worked. "I'm starting to get the bad feeling that this next word might be 'axe.'" 

“It’s looking that way… ‘bloodied ace’ doesn’t make any sense.” She grimaced. “Well, nobody said this was a happy story.”

“No, and unfortunately it’s shaping up to be like many stories of great civilizations and kingdoms I’ve read about in my day. It’s also beginning to make more sense to me why these poems were inscribed here - perhaps they wanted to leave them as a lesson.” 

“That’s my theory,” Varric agreed. “Especially since - well, we’ll get to that. Kestrel, you ready to sing the verses?”

“As the Champion, I believe it’s my duty to say, _I was born ready_ ,” Fenris replied with a dry tone and slight grin. Then, clearing his throat, he went through the next lines:

> _Fairel's sons built monuments to their father, locking away his great works, and worked together, for a time, side by side._
> 
> _Each ruled half the thaig, but each ruled differently._
> 
> _They argued, and heated words made the brothers duel,_
> 
> _And where one brother fell, the other raised bloodied axe in hand, alone._

“So… so one of Fairel’s sons killed the other?” Josephine looked horrified. “Is that why the colony collapsed?”

“It sounds like it.” Cullen nodded grimly. “Based on the other lines we’ve deciphered, it seems like it was their father’s wish they rule together after his death, but...”

“Best laid plans and all that,” said Dorian. 

“How awful.” Cassandra was a bit pale at the revelation. Mahanon caught her hand and squeezed it gently.

“With this distressing discovery,” said Varric, feeling a little guilty at how much it clearly bothered them all, “the fourth tomb opens and we lather, rinse, repeat on the contents. I won’t even make you go to the trouble of rolling to unlock the chest, Bathras, you know what you’re going to find.”

“Plus we all know I’ll get in because I’m the greatest of all time,” Hawke said playfully, injecting some levity back into the situation. “Come on, let’s take this key fragment and the map and see what we can find. If nothing else, we can at least bring this story into the light.” 

The map, predictably, led them to one final tomb, where they pieced together what turned out to be the _beginning_ of the entire thing. Fenris sounded just slightly puzzled as he read it.

> _This is the tale of Fairel, Paragon among Paragons, father of two sons,_
> 
> _who, against their father's wishes, fought from foolish words and foolish pride._
> 
> _For pride these halls were made -- to honor a father's deeds, and grieve his loss._
> 
> _And for loss these halls were made, to honor a brother mourned._

“It sounds as though the surviving son might be the one who established all of these tombs,” Michel remarked. “His guilt overwhelmed him.”

“I feel like that makes a few things make a bit more sense,” said Bull. Seeing a few of the others looking at him quizzically, he elaborated. “Know how I keep saying these tombs are interesting? What have they been missing? Pits, arrow traps, anything to stop us besides a door that opens when you read some poetry. Either they thought this Fairel was so important that no one would even _think_ of robbing his tomb, or they sort of wanted it to be found.” 

“Or both,” said Solas with a nod. “But I suspect you are right. Fairel’s son didn’t want his father’s legacy to disappear, even as he was likely watching the colony do exactly that. We’re only finding one sarcophagus in each of the tombs, after all, and surely there were more citizens. Perhaps they fled in the wake of his sons’ violence, and only a few remained to become the tombs’ occupants.”

“That would make sense,” said Bethany. “But is this the last tomb? And if so, does it belong to Fairel or are these just monuments to him, not his resting place?” 

“Well, within the usual chest inside the tomb,” said Varric, “you find one more key fragment and a map. However, this map is a little different from the others, because it’s more complete - for some reason, whoever broke into the tombs was either meant to find this one first or last. It has all four of the other tombs marked on it, as well as directions showing that you should go back to that statue where this all started and then head due east into… it’s hard to say, really, because the map doesn’t seem to indicate that there’s anything there. But that’s where you need to go.”

“Curiouser and curiouser,” said Dorian. “It sounds like that’s either where we’ll find our objective or otherwise get eaten by giant sand worms. But only one way to find out.” 

“This is going to take a while, isn’t it?” Josephine sounded oddly tired. “Namud is feeling homesick for his fan club. Seeing the gurns with - I’m sorry, Dorian, what was your character’s name again?”

“Well, the name I wrote on my sheet was ‘Valerian,’ but let’s face it, in my head he’s either me or Freddie Mercury now, so call him what you like.” Dorian chuckled. 

Everyone else laughed. “Valerian, then,” Josie continued with a smile. “Seeing Valerian and his fangurns is making him long for the adulation of his own groupies.”

“Oh, poor Namud,” Bethany said sympathetically. “I would happily share one of my bird friends, but somehow I don’t think that’s going to be any substitute for his legion of loyal fans. On the bright side, imagine how much they’ll enjoy hearing him tell the story of his adventuring prowess.” 

“Thank you, Annie, that does give him some comfort.”

“Gorf join fan club?” Mahanon offered.

“I thought you were going to be busy touring with Dorian’s character,” said Cassandra, amused. 

“Gorf can multi-task!”

“And who knows, perhaps Cassandra’s lady Knight-Captain would like to join the tour as a bodyguard,” Dorian said, lips twitching a little. 

“Oooh. Pretty girl protect Gorf?” Mahanon’s eyes twinkled as he gave his wife a pleading look.

“I don’t really know how much protection I could offer an ogre, but oh, why not?” she said, throwing her hands up in playful resignation as she clearly fought against laughter. 

“Gorf get pretty bodyguard! Maybe get kiss too.” He was beaming. Evvy put her head on Cullen’s shoulder and laughed until she was crying. Cullen was likewise chuckling, and his wife’s laughter only increased his own as he laughed along with her.

Cassandra rolled her eyes playfully. “We’ll see,” she said. “First we actually have to succeed in our objective before I agree to change career paths.” 

“That fair. Gorf completely support pretty girl’s career choices,” he said solemnly.

“Nonny, with you around, things are never dull,” said Evvy. “So how long will it take us to reach this… whatever it is that the key unlocks?”

“Well, it didn’t take us that long to get all the way out here in the first place,” said Leliana, who was still laughing in fits and starts, especially following Gorf’s last comment. “So if we have to go back to our original location, we should at least have a good idea of that distance. As for how far we have to go after that…” She shrugged. 

“All right. May I suggest that we first head back to the starting point, and perhaps rest there again?” said Michel. “I’m not sure how realistic it is for us to be running around in the desert in heavy armor without stopping more frequently than we do.”

“Yeah, and we’re all here for the realism,” Bull teased him.

“...all right, yes, fair.”

“Perhaps Valerian is keeping us all healthy through music or something,” Bethany said with a chuckle. “But yes, taking a rest at some point is probably a good idea. I think Bull’s theory about the tombs being something they wanted us to find is an accurate one, but even so, who knows what we may encounter at the last one? Better to be well rested.” 

“Suppose we make that the time to pause and eat the pizza I promised,” said Varric. He glanced at his watch. “A truck should be reaching the school gate within the next fifteen minutes or so.”

“That sounds like an excellent plan,” Leliana agreed, then raised a curious eyebrow. “A truck? Did you treat the entire school again? Because you know I said I would take care of it and that you didn’t have to spend your money.” 

“Did you say that? I don’t remember having a conversation like that,” he replied, obviously lying. “Anyway, the truck is actually full of gurns, it’s a special gift for Dorian.”

“And let me guess, they’re all outfitted in t-shirts with my face on them,” he said dryly. “That could end in disaster - my human fans would be very jealous the gurns got t-shirts and they didn’t. We could have a fight on our hands.” 

“You’re right. That’s why they’re not wearing those - but I do have Sonnet making me a list of who would want shirts like that and what sizes I should order,” Varric replied. “All right, yes, it’s a truck full of pizza. The gurns won’t arrive for a few more days, I’m still negotiating with the zoo.”

Everyone laughed at that, although Dorian levelled Varric with a mock glare. “I know you’re joking, but do _not_ actually buy me gurns,” he warned, waggling his finger. 

“It’s like you don’t trust me at all, brother,” Varric protested.

“Yes, it’s exactly like that,” he replied teasingly, which led to more laughter.

“If the zoo ever needs naming suggestions for any newborn gurns,” said Cullen in an aside to Evvy that was clearly meant to be heard by the ‘brothers,’ “I’m suggesting ‘Dodo’ and ‘Ick.’” 

“I think that sounds perfect,” she agreed, chuckling. “Oh, Maker. All the brothers in the world and I end up with the silliest three - even _without_ Fred and Nat here.”

“And a very silly brother-in-law as well. But it’s perfect - some children get one fun uncle if they’re lucky, but our children get a whole gaggle of them.” 

“For a given value of fun, anyway,” Varric said, amused. “So the party will cross the vast desert expanse, a place full of wind and sand and wind blowing on sand. Eventually you reach a lantern on a rocky outcropping.”

"A lantern?" Dorian repeated. "Who in their right mind would put a lantern all the way out here?"

"Well, we're out here," Cullen pointed out.

"Like I said. Let's face it, whether or not we're in our right minds is debatable."

"Well, true." Cullen chuckled. 

“Can we see anything from where we are?” Leliana asked. 

“Apart from the rising moon? Roll for perception.”

The headmistress rolled, and a few other people kept their hands poised over their dice in case their perception rolls were necessary as well. “Uh, let’s see here… fourteen.” 

“You perceive where someone, perhaps the same weirdo who created this endlessly burning lantern, has erected a sign near it.” Varric’s smirk was almost unbearable. “It says, _Welcome to the Middle of Nowhere. Population: You._ ”

There were a few almost comical groans. “Well, someone has a strange sense of humor,” said Dorian. “And by someone, I mean the game master.”

“I hope we haven’t made a wrong turn or something,” Cullen added. “Do we see anything else around?” 

“In the extreme distance of the direction in which you are traveling, you get the distinct impression of something. However, at your current location, you can’t tell what it is.”

“Hmm. That’s somewhat… disconcerting. But I guess ‘something’ doesn’t necessarily mean ‘something bad’ at least.” 

“Maybe it’s a hint that we’re moving in the right direction,” said Bull. “Incidentally, did we actually make a key or are we just toting around five pieces of one?”

“Excellent question, Tiny. Anyone have thoughts?” Varric asked. 

"I'm more curious how these pieces are going to fit together at all and still work," said Hawke. "Is it a normal key or is it something else that's just going to act like a key, you know? Given all of the other doors have opened with a poem, I'll admit I'm eager to see just what this final key is like."

“Why don’t we take a breather and try to assemble it in the light of this friendly lantern?” Michel suggested. 

“An excellent suggestion,” Cullen agreed. “Varric, do we have to roll anything specific for… key assembly?” 

“Suppose you all take a look at your abilities - see who’s most likely to figure out how it works.”

They had their magic users, of course, who suggested they might be able to stitch it together with magic or discover some sort of arcane secret. Blackwall's character, being a bit of a survivalist by nature, was skilled with tools, and the rogues theorized that their talent with locks could be translated to reverse engineering the key to one. 

“Okay. Everyone who is helping to assemble the key, roll your nine-sider and add it to your luck stat. Then add your totals and we’ll see what happens.” Varric paused as there came a knock at the door. “That’ll be about the delivery. You guys can roll while I’m gone, although I’ll still be recording so don’t say anything about me in my absence.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll save anything we have to say about you so we can say it to your face,” Hawke said sweetly, even as she rolled. 

“I knew I could count on you, Hawke.” He chuckled and ambled out to pay for the pizzas. Evvy, meanwhile, started collecting the babies from their playpen so that they could eat as well.

“They’ve been so good this whole time,” Josephine remarked. Namud wasn’t part of the key assembly team, which freed his player to wave at the little ones and smile. “I don’t think I’ve heard a peep out of them.” 

“I forgot they were there,” Blackwall admitted with an embarrassed chuckle. 

“I think they were napping mostly,” Evvy said, returning to the table to plop Anthony in his father’s lap. “But I’m sure they’re hungry by now.”

For his part, Anthony looked very interested in the dice and, now that he was awake, seemed like he wanted to be a part of the fun. He made to reach for the little pile of them in front of Cassandra and with a laugh, she had to move them out of his grasp.

“Oh, look, he likes shiny rocks too,” Cullen noted with a chuckle from his spot across the table. 

“Gorf Junior take after papa,” said Mahanon proudly. “Will get own shiny rocks when older. Already gets lots of kisses from pretty girls.”

“It _is_ hard to argue with that logic,” Cassandra said with a chuckle, grinning faintly.

“What do you think, Skye?” Cullen said to his daughter conversationally. “Anthony’s papa is pretending to be an ogre and your da was once a unicorn. We’re all very silly, aren’t we?” 

“Oo-corn?”

“I suppose that makes her something of a unicorn as well,” Bull mused with a grin. 

“Or maybe she’s a druid like her mama.” Cullen chuckled. “My two unicorn tamers. I can see Cole enjoying that role as well - being able to talk to animals and whatnot. Although he played a spirit in the first game, didn’t he?” 

“A spirit of compassion,” Hawke confirmed. “He was the one who got us past the dragon, it was pretty epic.”

“He was telling us all about how he offered the dragon a cookie and how the way to get the treasure was by acknowledging the power of friendship,” Cullen recalled with a smile. “He was so delighted by the whole thing.” 

“It was a lot of fun,” said Josephine with a chuckle. “But alas, no music-loving gurns.”

“Clearly they were out here just waiting for their muse,” Dorian said, touching a hand to his chest dramatically, a gesture which elicited several more chuckles. 

“In the last adventure, you were our client,” Bull recalled. “Would Valerian have sent a bunch of strangers to find a dragon, or shall we assume it was his long-lost brother?”

“Hmm. Perhaps it was an impersonator - I am often imitated, but never duplicated, after all.”

“Or maybe the dragon owed you song royalties or something and you were hoping we would collect,” Hawke suggested.” 

“Interesting theory,” said Mahanon, chuckling, in his own voice. “Then again, we’re talking about a dragon who had one of Varric’s books in his treasure vault.”

“Well, maybe he has better taste in music than he does in books,” Dorian snarked. 

“I guess we’ll never know. Bethy? You need another drink?” Hawke asked, apparently suddenly realizing her sister had been quiet.

“Hmm? Oh, I’m fine. I mean, I _do_ need another drink,” she added, observing her empty tea cup with a chuckle. “But I was enjoying the back and forth, far be it from me to interrupt. Varric told me all about the first game, of course, but it’s nice to get the perspective of those of you who actually played.” 

“I’ll get your tea. Varric should be back any minute with the food.”

“Maybe he got distracted by the movie and he’s cribbing ideas,” Blackwall joked. 

“Or the Partners in Crime found him and are begging to hear the details of the game,” Josephine added. “I could see that happening too.” 

“Or begging to be brought in for cameos,” Michel suggested with a chuckle. 

“I could see _that_ too.” She smiled. “Well, those three did play a rogue, a mage, and a warrior - they make a perfect set. Perhaps they decided to branch out and start their own adventuring company.” She laughed merrily at the idea. 

“Weirdos for Hire,” said Varric, opening the door in time to hear these remarks. “If we’re talking about the Partners, they send their regards to Namud and Sillat and of course Eric.”

“We are indeed, their ears must have been burning,” Josephine replied. “I was wagering they wanted to hear all about the adventure.” 

“They do, but right now they’re apparently compiling ideas for more fanfic based on the movie. Something about making Broody an elf who falls for Hawke as the incredible human, or something. Anyway, the kids are all stuffing their faces with pizza and garlic knots, and the gurns are settling in nicely.” He smirked. 

“Ooh, I look forward to this fanfic,” said Hawke with a grin. “And I’m sure Dorian’s gurns will too.”

“Of course. Any gurns of mine will appreciate a well-told tale,” Dorian added.

Leliana chuckled. “Somehow, I can picture this. Skyhold can be a sanctuary for both children and animals.” She likewise grinned. 

“At this point,” said Evvy, wiping Skye’s chin, “I don’t think anything would surprise me. Well, Varric, the pizza smells delicious, so thank you.”

“Yes, thank you, dear.” Bethany squeezed his hand, fixing him with a smile. “We all said this would be a nice opportunity for our characters to rest, didn’t we? Also, did we have any luck with that key? All of us who rolled kept our dice - there were no re-rolls, I promise.” 

“I left you in charge for a reason,” he teased, putting a plate of food before her. “Okay, everybody add your rolls to the luck stat and we’ll see how it compares to the key’s own stats.”

The highest number belonged to Hawke, whose roll of eight became eleven when added to Eric’s luck. All told, the little group trying to assemble the key made it to thirty between them. 

Once Varric reclaimed his seat and looked over his own dice and notes, he nodded. “It takes you three tries,” he said. “Your first attempt results in something that looks like an origami bird, and the second looks like a butterfly, but the third try produces a key which actually looks like a key.” He handed Hawke a large ornamental key. 

“Hey, look at that, we get props. To borrow from Jim from the first game, huzzah!” She grinned as she accepted the key in question. “We’ll let everyone eat and then it looks like we can be on our way to that final tomb. No offense, but hopefully this time the treasure has fewer books and more riches.” 

“You wound me, Hawke. Just for that, the treasure chest will contain nothing but copies of _Dorian Pavus Sings Queen’s Greatest Hits._ ”

“If you all wanted to hear me sing, all you had to do was ask, we didn’t have to come all the way out into the desert for it,” said Dorian. “Even so, that is the finest treasure of all time to be sure.” 

Everyone chuckled and, for a time, the pizza occupied their primary attention. “So while we’re eating,” said the game master, “does anyone have any questions out of character?”

“I do, actually,” said Bethany. “I know you mentioned a bit about ‘the Stone’ earlier and the fact that the dwarves believed they came from it, so is that why their thaigs are underground? And if so, wasn’t it extremely radical for Fairel to come up here in the first place?” 

“Yes and also yes.” Her husband nodded. “I did some reading on dwarven legend before we started - you know I like to claim they’re my ancestors because it explains why I’m short. They chiefly lived underground, had some weird crippling fear of the sky, but a few would occasionally move to the surface. Sometimes it was a matter of exile from the dwarven kingdom, sometimes it was personal choice. In Fairel’s case, the legends say, the dwarves were doing a lot of in-fighting and he wanted to get away from it.”

“I can’t even imagine,” she said, shaking her head. “I mean, it was hard enough leaving Ferelden to go to Kirkwall, but it wasn’t as though we were leaving everything we’d ever believed to go there. They must have been very brave… or very desperate.” 

“Or both. From the little we know about Fairel’s colony, he was honestly pretty successful in getting his people away from the fighting, but then he died. And - well, I don’t want to get ahead of myself.”

“This is good, I should take notes since I’m playing a dwarf,” said Hawke. “Although I bet Eric would rather be playing cards and singing songs about his amazing hero friend than thinking about dwarf stuff.” 

“Naturally,” said Fenris in his typical deadpan fashion. 

“Not to mention spending time with his very pretty mage wife,” Bethany added, giggling behind her hand.

“I have no doubt that that is very high on his priority list.” Varric chewed lazily on his pizza crust. “He probably tells everyone that she put a spell on him.”

"Perhaps she did," said Bethany playfully, her eyes dancing as she grinned. 

“Oh, I’m fairly sure she did. But I’m also fairly sure he’s not complaining.” Varric looked just a wee bit smug.

Hawke glanced at Fenris. "Well, Bethany is my sister, but Annie is yours, so I feel like one of us should step in and try to control at least one of them," she said in a joking aside. 

Fenris put up his hands and shook his head slightly. “I told him that if he broke her heart, I’d kill him. That’s where my responsibility ends.”

Hawke clicked her tongue in mock annoyance; her grin of amusement made it fall a little flat, however. Bethany, meanwhile, wrinkled her nose playfully at her sister. "Maybe Eric is just jealous that the game master is getting so much attention," she teased. 

“Maybe, but it’s gonna get really weird if you start flirting with Eric,” said Bull. “Maybe next time Hawke should be the game master and Varric can be his own expy.”

"Ooh, I could be convinced of that," said Hawke, tapping her fingers together thoughtfully, almost eagerly. 

“Hmm… that sounds like fun. After all, Hawke has learned about storytelling from the best.” Varric smirked. 

“Careful, you know what they say about students and teachers,” she warned. “I could surpass you.” 

He shrugged. “I taught Sonnet and Bishop. You wouldn’t be the first.”

“I’m sure I wouldn’t come up with anything as creative as them.” She laughed. “But I could always ask them for some ideas and input.” 

“I’m sure they would love that. Rory would - how does she put it - she wouldn’t be able to even?” Leliana chuckled. 

“She would be shook,” said Cullen, likewise laughing. “Her soul would leave her body and ascend. Goodbye, friends, she would be gone. The past few years at Skyhold Academy have made me rather fluent in their language.” 

“It’s certainly colorful, but at the same time, you more or less understand what they mean,” Evvy noted. “I actually like it better than some of the phrases from when I was their age.”

“I know what you mean. Although it’s also somewhat amusing to realize how many of those bits of slang from our childhoods have actually come back around. Or perhaps the word I’m looking for is ‘unfortunate.’” He chuckled again. 

“Well, if Hawke is going to be the next ringmaster of this circus, count me in,” said Blackwall. “If it’s half as entertaining as _The Adventures of Dodo and Ick,_ we should be in for a treat.”

“Who knows, maybe it will just be a continuation of _The Adventures of Dodo and Ick_.” Hawke laughed. “I’ve often wondered what shenanigans those two would get into in a second go around.”

“I for one would not object. But we’d all have to make new stat sheets for the characters,” Varric pointed out. 

“Well, we can cross that bridge when we come to it. But it’s something to keep in mind. I could always come up with an adventure where your current characters meet your characters in that. It’ll be a crossover, as the kids say.” 

“That would be insane. I’m all for it,” said Bull with a laugh. He nudged Josie playfully. “Maybe some of them can join Namud’s fan club.”

“Oh, quite possibly.” She looked amused and vaguely delighted by the prospect. “Perhaps some of Princess Sunshine’s bodyguards might like to join. Maybe my character can join!” 

“That would be meta - your character joins the fan club for your other character,” Fenris commented, amused. “And we’d have to find an excuse to bring back the Dread Wolf.” He gave Solas a nod. 

“I’m sure he could have a purpose in returning,” said Solas.

“Perhaps he could even be the quest giver or something.” Hawke shrugged. 

“Now there is an idea,” said Michel. “Perhaps he could make an effort to atone, and issue the quest as part of that.”

Hawke pulled out her phone, clearly making a note of the ideas. “I like where this is going, I’ll have to brainstorm this. But I don’t want to derail the current adventure, so I’ll save my brainstorming for later. If anyone has any other ideas, though, you know where to find me.”

Varric chuckled. “Well, if you’re ready to resume your journey while we eat, you can continue making your way toward the mysterious distant structure. Anyone want to get a refill or use the bathroom before we get moving?”

A few people took the opportunity to do so, if only so they didn’t have to leave the table again once the adventure resumed. Within about ten minutes, everyone had returned and shifted their plates so they could once again roll and consult their sheets. Eagerly, they turned to Varric to see what he had planned for once they reached their destination. 

“As you near the massive stone building,” he said, his tone clearly leading to something, “you realize two things. One, the placement of statues and columns indicates that this must be the tomb of the great Lord Fairel, and two… something extremely large is asleep on the ground between it and you. The question is, do you wake the enormous dragon and challenge it to a fight, or do you try to sneak past?”

There were some murmurs at that and a very excited sound from Bull. This was met with an incredulous look from Dorian. “You are far too pleased about this,” he said with a huff. 

“Mayhem, _kadan_. Maaaaayhem.”

“I’m going to take a wild guess,” said Evvy wryly, “and suppose that Bull is not in favor of sneaking past the dragon.”

“Too bad we don’t have Cole here to talk it down and offer it a cookie,” said Cullen, laughing a little. “But I suppose it doesn’t hurt to at least try the stealthy approach first, does it? Worse comes to worst, it wakes up and we’re forced to fight it anyway, but at least we’ve tried?” 

“Wait a moment,” said Solas. “Where are the gurns? I can’t imagine that sneaking past the dragon will be easy with a group of gurns in attendance.”

“ _That_ is an excellent point,” said Dorian. “I suppose I could try to ask them to stay put - Maker only knows how successful that would be.” 

“Or you could stay with them - keep them distracted with your lute - and then come to our heroic rescue if you see we’re in trouble,” Evvy suggested. 

“I certainly do like the sound of getting to sweep in heroically.” He chuckled. “I don’t suppose I could get lucky twice in one game and charm the dragon as well. And what’s more, I don’t know how many more pets I can handle.” 

“All right. So Vale and the fangurns will have a private concert at a safe distance,” said Mahanon in his regular voice, bouncing Anthony a bit, “and the rest of us will try to creep past the dragon. Gorf not stealthy but good at hitting. Should Gorf stay with shiny music man too?”

“That might not be a bad idea,” Cullen noted. “That way you can assist if something creeps up on ‘Vale and the fangurns’ - which, incidentally, sounds like a band name. If something happens with the dragon, both of you can come running to our assistance.” 

“Before anyone asks,” said Varric, amused, “I am personally vetoing ‘Vale and the Fangurns’ as the name of our aging boy band.”

“But Varric,” Leliana protested, trying desperately not to laugh, “the students would love it.” Hawke and Bethany were making no such effort to stifle their snickers. 

“It’s not the Fangurns part, it’s the Vale,” he replied nonchalantly. “Requires too much explanation.”

“Yes, quite right,” said Dorian. “It should obviously be ‘Dorian and the Fangurns.’ And yes, the word ‘Fangurns’ did just come out of my mouth, I am as shocked as all of you.” 

“Maybe we should call ourselves ‘Insert Name Here’ or something,” offered Mahanon. “Like we’re letting everyone invent their own name for us.”

“Hmm.” Cullen pondered it, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “I like it. It adds to our mystique, I think.” 

“I’m okay with it,” said Varric. “But let’s return to the task at hand, meanwhile. So Vale is playing music for the gurns, and I’m going to guess that Gorf is doing an interpretive dance for them as well, while the rest of you attempt to sneak past the sleeping dragon.”

“Aww, suddenly I’m a little sorry we don’t get to stay behind and watch the interpretive dance,” Hawke replied, amused. “At any rate, what do we have to roll anything to accomplish said sneaking?” 

“Gorf will perform encore for mouthy dwarf later,” Mahanon promised. Cassandra rolled her eyes. 

“Everyone in the sneaking party roll your twenty-sider and add your rolls to both your luck and your dexterity,” said Varric. “And good luck, because you’ll need a dang big number here.”

A worried cringe was exchanged by more than a few people and silence fell as they rolled, broken by the occasional groan as unfortunately tiny numbers were revealed. When all was said and done, Josephine’s roll was the highest - a natural twenty - although a few others came up with extremely high numbers once their stats were added in. All told, their combined score came to one hundred and sixty-three. 

“You get about halfway past the dragon,” said Varric, consulting his notes, “when it wakes up. It hasn’t noticed you yet, so now you have to decide whether to fight or keep in the shadows and hope it goes back to sleep.”

“Oh, dear. Hide,” said Josephine.

“Fight,” said Bull, looking eager.

“Hmm, sounds dangerous, I think I’ll play ‘Another One Bites the Dust’ for you all,” said Dorian breezily. 

Evvy burst out laughing. “How very considerate, Fairy Godfather. I’m sure the gurns appreciate it too.”

“Of course they do. They recognize quality.”

Cullen chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, it sounds like we should probably put this to a vote then, shouldn’t we? Or Bull’s character can go off and fight the dragon while the rest of us sneak off,” he added teasingly. 

“Much as I personally would enjoy that, Sillat is a little small for that kind of thing,” Bull replied with a grin. “I doubt the dragon is up for a weird philosophical debate.”

“No, but I would certainly love to see that if it were.” Leliana chuckled. “All right, those in favor of fighting the dragon?” 

Blackwall, Michel, and Fenris all raised their hands. “As Champion, I think this is the sort of thing I’m supposed to do to keep the general population safe,” Fenris added in a mild tone. 

“Sounds good, anyway,” Blackwall returned. “No one else?”

“I’m on the fence,” Leliana admitted. “While I personally would prefer to remain in the shadows, I would certainly be willing to lend my unique assistance to a fight.”

“I agree,” said Hawke. “While I’m not in favor of being barbequed today, the storyteller wants clear descriptions and a dragon fight story would definitely be a hit in the taverns.” 

“I’m a little apprehensive, myself,” said Evvy. “My combat ability is really low, and I can’t talk to dragons.”

“I may be a warrior, but I’d like to live to fight another day,” Cullen agreed. “It doesn’t hurt to at least try to hide - if we fail, we have to fight anyway, but at least we can make an attempt to avoid combat, right?” 

“That seems logical to me,” said Solas. “But how long must we wait?”

“At least long enough for me to make more coffee,” Varric deadpanned. “Storytellers need caffeine, as I’m sure Eric Bathras can attest.”

“You got that right,” Hawke replied in her Eric voice, lifting her coffee mug. “This game master really gets me. It’s like we’re the same person.” 

Everyone chuckled. “It’s absolutely uncanny how much alike you are,” Josephine said, managing to keep a straight face. “Simply amazing.”

“Well, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, I hear,” Bethany said, laughing as she elbowed her sister. 

“But which is the original and which is the imitation?” Fenris asked, mock innocently. “The world may never know.”

“A great mystery that will forever be unsolved,” Hawke agreed, grinning. “But let’s face it - Eric Bathras is one of a kind, so draw what conclusions you will from that.” 

“No argument here,” said Varric, coming with the fresh pot to refill her coffee mug. “And I’m sure Annie would agree.”

“Oh, of course,” said Bethany. “But Bethany Tethras vastly prefers the game master, who is often imitated but never truly duplicated.” 

“There’s my Sunshine. Did anybody want more pizza, or should I put it away?” Varric tried not to look too smug. 

“Just one more, please. And maybe a little more tea, but after we see what happens next. I’m very eager to see if we make it.” 

Her husband obligingly slid one more slice of pizza onto her plate, then took a jog down to the kitchen to put the rest in the refrigerator. “I presume no one was cheating while I was gone,” he said, returning a moment later.

“Oh, we actually managed to talk the dragon down and all became dragon riders while you were gone,” Cassandra said dryly. “I hope you don’t mind.” 

“Mind? That's a way better plan than what I was imagining. I was going to have her use one of you as a toothpick.”

“No offense, Varric, but I like Cassandra’s idea better.” Cullen laughed. “So if the dragon has us in mind for toothpick purposes, does that mean we’ve been discovered or do we still have a prayer?” 

“Right now prayers are still operative,” the game master confirmed. “Talk it out as a group and decide how long you want to wait, or if you want to do something else.”

“How far are we from the entrance?” Leliana wanted to know. “Is it close enough that we could make a run for it if it came to that?” 

“You are…” He consulted his notes. “It’s about equal to the distance from the Skyhold garage to the post office.”

“Hmm, not a distance I would fancy running, especially with a dragon on our heels, but we may not have a choice.”

“Indeed,” said Josephine, pondering the matter. “I propose we wait for five minutes, maybe ten, and then begin moving again as stealthily as we can. And if we’re spotted, we either try to run for it or fight, but we can cross that bridge if we come to it.” 

“That seems reasonable to me,” said Michel. “Not that the fight wouldn’t be exciting, but for the sake of our non-combat allies this is a prudent idea.”

“Don’t worry, if I do in fact run a campaign, I’ll let you guys fight lots of things,” Hawke said cheerfully. 

“Hey, it’s not my fault the fights aren’t happening,” Varric protested. 

“We’re just… very creative problem solvers.” Leliana smiled. “All right, so we’ll wait here then and see what happens? Ten minutes at most.” 

“While you’re waiting, you might discuss any details you think should be brought up - division of rewards, speculation about the fate of the colony, the creepy feet on nugs, whatever.”

“They are not creepy,” Leliana objected. “They’re adorable!”

“No, they’re the stuff of nightmares,” said Dorian. “And please don’t ask me how I know that.” 

“Didn’t we already have this discussion?” Blackwall asked. “Varric’s bachelor party, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, I came in to moderate,” Leliana replied, somewhere between amused and proud. “Varric was very adamant on the subject. I still think you should have seen my sweet Schmooples, Varric - he had adorable little feet. I even painted his toenails sometimes!” 

“Wait,” said Bull, looking amused. “You actually had a pet nug? Named _Schmooples_?”

“Oh yes!” Her own amusement turned to delight now. “He was a gift from Elissa… Maker, over a decade ago. He was such a good nug. He used to ride around in my purse.” She chuckled fondly at the memory. 

“That’s precious,” said Evvy. “They aren’t common in the Marches, I don’t think I’ve ever seen one except at the zoo.”

“Having nugs as pets is actually fairly common in Orlais,” Leliana explained. “Although for many years I called them ‘bunny pigs.’ Sometimes I still call them bunny pigs,” she admitted, chuckling again. “And look at that, I successfully derailed the game talking about nugs. Please feel free to talk about other things now… but if anyone ever wants to see pictures of Schmooples, I have several.” 

“She used to make costumes for him,” said Josephine conspiratorially. 

“That’s entirely true. One year I made him a little knight costume. Sometimes I made him little shirts that matched my outfit.” 

“Maybe you and Sunshine should trade notes. You can help her make costumes for the babies,” said Varric, amused. “Or Cole’s dog.”

“Oh, so many costumes and group photos,” Bethany agreed with a laugh. “And although Fereldan sensibility probably forbids me from dressing up a mabari, maybe Snow would appreciate a nice hat, just like her master.” 

“Maybe you could make them matching hats,” Evvy suggested. “I think Cole would love that.”

“Oh, what if we made matching hats for Cole, Snow, and Skye?” She clapped her hands together in delight at the notion. “Dorian, we may have to borrow some crafting supplies.”

“Just say the word, and they’re yours,” he confirmed. 

“I’ll have to take a picture of the three of them to send back to Ostwick. And to South Reach too, of course.” Evvy looked equally delighted. 

“Oh, I want to see this,” Cullen agreed. “I’m going to need a bigger desk at this rate with all these pictures I want to display, I really will.” 

Evvy didn’t comment on that, but she did glance at Dorian. Varric decided he didn’t want to know. “Well, meanwhile, the dragon is getting restless and also hungry, so she decides to go off in search of a meal. Fortunately, she has no appetite for gurns, so she ignores the concert, and is soon out of sight. Now’s your chance to open the tomb.”

A few people sighed in relief at that news, a few others clapped. Bull looked a bit disappointed.

“Oh, excellent!” said Josephine, still clapping. “Let’s go see what awaits us in this tomb, I’m so very curious.” 

“One key usage coming up,” said Hawke. “Or do we have another poem to translate first?”

“And can I check for traps before we try anything?” Bethany inquired. “I mean, given we think the surviving brother is the one behind all of this, I doubt he would pick now to start laying traps, but it’s better to err on the side of caution, isn’t it?” 

“You can check,” said Varric with a nod. “And no, no poem. Apparently, Fairel’s son didn’t expect anyone would actually get this far without having already put together the poem, so he didn’t bother adding anything new. But for anyone who wants a refresher, I put the whole thing together in the correct order.” He slid a sheet of paper onto the table, and a few of the players took turns reading it to themselves.

“That’s… heartbreaking,” said Josephine, passing the sheet to Dorian.

“Very much so,” Leliana agreed. She looked sad, but fascinated in the way only a lover of stories really could be. “And he built all this as a memorial to his mistake - a testament to the care and devotion he should have shown and didn’t show until it was too late. Can you imagine?” 

“Honestly? No,” said Evvy. “It’s almost too painful to even try. I wonder what our patron will think when we bring him all this evidence.”

"Hopefully he uses it for more than just bragging rights," Cullen said. "There's so much history to be uncovered. And a story that needs to be told."

“Well, Annie, do you detect anything? Does anyone else want to search for anything before we go in?” Fenris asked. 

“Let’s see here.” She paused, rolled, and glanced up at Varric. “Fourteen?” 

“You observe some droppings where your feathered friends were polite enough to leave your shoulders long enough to do what was necessary. Otherwise, all is calm.”

“That _was_ polite of them,” she agreed. “All right, everyone, shall we go see what awaits us in this final tomb?”

“Preferably before the dragon comes back,” said Hawke. “I’ve got the key ready and waiting.” 

“You use the key and open the heavy door of the massive tomb,” said Varric, his tone serious. “It’s so quiet inside that it’s loud, if that makes any sense, and it smells ancient. As your eyes adjust to the dim light, you begin to discern things like furniture.”

“Furniture in a tomb?” Hawke repeated, her tone dry. “I bet that’s comfortable.” 

“The tomb is two chambers,” Varric explained. “You’re currently in the first chamber, which contains a massive chair and a couple shelving units. There are things on the shelves.”

“And I suppose we have to investigate what we’re seeing?” Blackwall asked, amused. 

“Might be a good idea.”

“I know they say ‘never split the party,’ but I imagine it would be safe to split up and check these various artifacts, given we’re all still in the same location,” Cassandra said, chuckling slightly. “I would like to roll to examine the chair, if I may.” 

“Use your six and your nine, and then add the numbers to your intelligence stat,” Varric replied with a nod. 

“And I would like to examine one of the shelves,” said Cullen as she rolled. “Should I roll the same?” 

“You got it, Curly. Anyone who wants to participate, do the same and tell me what you’re investigating.”

Leliana and Josephine likewise wanted to investigate the shelves, hoping they could help uncover something that a lower roll might miss. Their numbers were fifteen and thirteen respectively, while Cassandra and Cullen managed ten and twelve. 

“All right. It takes a while,” said Varric. “Eventually, Cassandra’s character works out that the chair was Fairel’s throne. Seems his son had it moved here to be interred with him. It’s actually not very fancy, no jewels or anything - just a big stone chair that doesn’t look even slightly comfortable. Although… you do notice something peculiar about one of the arms.”

That piqued their interest. “Peculiar how?” Cassandra asked, her brow furrowed. “Was my roll high enough to tell anything?” 

“There seems to be some kind of crevice which might indicate a hidden cache. You can’t get it open, however - this might be a job for a mage.”

“Ooh, may I?” Bethany asked. “I like being able to wield the magic touch. Same roll or something special this time?” 

“For you, bride of my fictional clone, use the twenty-sider and add it to the magic stat.” He chuckled. 

She rolled the twenty-sided die around in her palm for a moment before letting go, closing her eyes as she did so. When she dared to look, it was with only one eye. “Ah! Seventeen!” she said hopefully, clapping her hands together. “Add my magic stat to that and it’s… twenty-one.” 

“The hiding place pops open - well, as much as stone can pop - and you find a small pile of precious gems, which were likely taken out of the throne before the tomb was sealed.”

There was a collective _ooooh_ of intrigue. “I wager that alone will do quite nicely in terms of spoils from this adventure,” said Leliana. “But what of the other objects? Anything else of note?” 

“The shelves contain some relics from the ancient dwarves, probably stuff Fairel brought with him when he came to the surface,” Varric said, checking his notes. “There are some silver plates, a stone ball whose purpose has been long forgotten, a couple of smithing-type tools, and a handful of books in surprisingly decent condition. There is also… a scroll.” He let that hang in the air.

Another _ooooh_. “Can we read it?” Josephine inquired.

“Oh, how I wish we had some latex gloves,” Cullen added with a chuckle. “Historical documents - even fictional ones - deserve to be handled with the utmost care.” 

“You can read it,” Varric replied with a nod. “For the sake of convention, we’ll say it’s in common.” He produced the scroll from behind his screen and passed it to Cullen. “I think our resident history geek should do the honors.”

“Really?” Cullen looked quietly delighted. “Thank you. And luckily this particular document seems new enough that no latex gloves are required,” he added playfully, unfurling the scroll slowly for dramatic effect. 

Everyone sort of chuckled, and then he began to read the contents out loud. 

> _Fairel, greatest of paragons, slumbers in the Stone’s embrace within these mighty halls. If you have found your way here, traveler, then by now you know of my grief and my shame. Behold all which remains of Kal Repartha, the colony my father built, which my brother and I were to rule together after his death. Instead, I alone am here, spending my final days in bloodstained remorse. With my father and brother dead, our house dispersed, and those who followed us to the surface felt I was leading them back into the same strife we had come to escape. Most left. I labored singly to create burial sites for those who were too weak and elderly to flee, and for my father and my brother. You are in the final vault. Take what you will - I can in no way stop you - but take also the papers in my father’s chest. They will tell you all._

“A chest?” he said when he had finished reading. “Is that in the next chamber?” 

“Probably,” Solas mused. “There’s been one in each of the other tombs, after all. I wonder why, after leaving poetry everywhere else, the son chose to write more plainly in the scroll.”

“Perhaps whatever documents are in the chest will give us some idea - like a first-hand historical account that goes beyond what was revealed in the poems, maybe? We should find it.” 

“You’re right,” said Leliana. “We can collect the things here on our way out - let’s head into the second room.”

“The second chamber,” said Varric, “is empty except for three things - a chest much larger than any you saw in the other tombs, and two massive stone sarcophagi.”

“The surviving brother’s note said he created burial sites for his father and brother,” Cassandra noted. “Is it safe to assume we are looking at those burial sites?” 

“You can look to see if there are carvings on the sarcophagi, but yes, that’s a safe assumption.”

“And I’m likewise assuming this is the chest,” said Cullen. “Does someone want to check for traps before we open it or should I just throw caution to the wind and if anything happens to me, you can tell my wife I love her?” 

“I’m right next to you,” Evvy reminded him.

“Darling, I love you,” he replied, kissing her cheek. “And now I’m opening that chest, so remember me fondly if something happens.” 

Evvy’s expression was somewhere between _isn’t he adorable_ and _welcome to my life_. “Don’t say it,” she said mildly, glancing at the others. “I signed up for this of my own free will, I know.” Her eyes twinkled, however. 

“Is that you talking or your character?” Josie asked, giggling a little. 

“Yes.”

That prompted more laughter, especially from Cullen. “Let’s face it, we’re really only partially roleplaying here,” he said jokingly. “Speaking of which, what do I have to do to open the chest? Anything special?”

“Roll your nine-sider, and add it to your intelligence,” said Varric. 

“All right. Please be a nine, please be a nine…” It wasn’t quite that high, but it was a good roll nevertheless - a seven, which became ten when added to his character’s intelligence. 

“As you place your hand on the chest’s lock, it seems to warm briefly. Before you can decide if you’re imagining that or not, the feeling fades, and there’s a telltale sort of _chunk_ sound which indicates the lock is, well, unlocked.” Varric looked quietly amused. “Everyone should gather around and see what’s inside.”

Everyone leaned in as if they were actually going to look inside the chest while Cullen visibly sighed in relief to not be vaporized. “All right, I’ll open the lid,” he said. “What meets our eyes?” 

“At first, probably all you notice is the gold.” Varric chuckled. “The chest contains all that remains of the colony’s fortune. The coins are piled wrist-deep. There are also more documents, just as the letter from the son indicated, and a schematic drawn by Fairel himself for one of his inventions. It seems to be a kitchen gadget of some type - it slices, it dices, it makes julienne fries.”

“That’ll go brilliantly with the dragon’s rolling pin we got from the first quest,” said Hawke, amused. “Oh, and the gold’s nice too. Here, Cullen, enjoy the documents.” 

“The documents do exactly what the other letter implied, and give a detailed history of the thaig,” Varric added. 

“Oh, that’s _wonderful_ ,” Cullen enthused in an utterly genuine and thoroughly delighted tone. “And I think this will be more than sufficient for our benefactor to be able to settle his bet - but more than that, hopefully some scholars can make use of the information found here.” 

“So… what do we do now?” Michel asked. “Gather up all the valuables and find our way back to the edge of the desert?”

“Excellent question. Everyone, roll your twelve-sided dice and add it to your luck stat.”

“Uh oh, just when you thought it was safe to leave the tomb,” Hawke said dryly as she gathered up her dice.

No one rolled particularly badly, although a few people’s luck stats left something to be desired. Everyone rolled at least a seven or above and those who fell on the lower end of the spectrum looked at Varric expectantly. 

“You have no trouble gathering up everything worth taking and packing it into the trunk,” he reported. “The stronger groupmates will need to take it in turns to help carry it, unless one of you magic types has some kind of enchantment that will help. However, as you exit the tomb you hear the distinctive sounds of large leathery wings as the dragon starts heading home.”

“Oh, that’s not good,” said Leliana, grimacing. “Can we wait and see if it falls back asleep, then try to sneak by it?” 

“Discuss it as a group and decide how you want to handle it,” Varric replied, mock innocently. 

“Well, carrying this big chest is going to significantly slow us down, I’d wager,” said Cullen. “Perhaps Leliana is right and we should wait a bit to see what the dragon does. What does everyone else think?” 

Bull looked tremendously disappointed. “Am I the only one who wants to fight the dragon?” he asked. 

“I think you have a few other eager combatants,” Josephine noted with a chuckle. “I suppose you and a few volunteers could distract the dragon, but that seems like an unfair thing to ask of you.” 

“I could try talking to it,” said Evvy, “on the off chance that dragons and unicorns speak the same language. But I suspect it would not go well.”

“Yes, that would definitely not be my first choice,” her husband said. “Even if it is just a game, no version of me is eager to see you be put in harm’s way.” 

She chuckled, and shrugged. “It was just a thought. I don’t have our son’s gift for dragon speech. Any other ideas?”

“It seems our choices right now are lie low for a bit, fight the dragon, or just go and hope it doesn’t see us,” said Hawke. “Unless something happens in the time it takes us to debate everything, that is. Like, for instance, maybe we find a magical shortcut that leads us back to where Dorian, Mahanon, and the fangurns are waiting. That’d be nice.” 

Varric nudged Bethany’s hand. “She asked for some magic. Maybe you mages should look at your spell sheets.”

“I don’t have anything particularly useful, I’m afraid,” Bethany said, shuffling her sheets back and forth in her hands. “Some healing spells, a few water spells, that sort of thing. Anything on your end, Leliana?” 

“I have something called magic missile,” she said with a frown. “I’m not sure what that does.”

“It’s for attacking the darkness,” said Varric. 

“Come again?” Blackwall looked baffled. 

“Comedy sketch I heard. These kids are playing a game like this one, and the one decides to cast magic missile,” the game master explained with a smirk. “The others ask him why, since there’s nothing to attack, and he says he’s attacking the darkness.”

There was a general chuckle of understanding and amusement. “I like that guy’s style,” Hawke remarked with a grin. “What do you think, will attacking some darkness help in this situation?” 

“Well, it _might_ dig that tunnel you wanted. Or it _might_ annoy the stuffing out of that dragon. Who can say? Only the dice can tell.” Varric affected an innocent expression.

“You’re a cruel man.”

“Also, please tell me we aren’t going to blast through ancient architecture,” Cullen added, looking almost hilariously nervous. “Are we?” 

“Well, not in real life,” Bull offered. “But couldn’t we just use magic missile on the dragon?”

“You’re so eager to fight this poor dragon,” Leliana teased him. “But yes, I suppose that could be done. But if I roll poorly, we’re in big trouble.” 

“Everyone has to agree on the plan,” Varric reminded them. “No premature missile-ing.”

“Shall we vote again?” Josephine suggested. “That way we can see where everyone stands and debate it if necessary?” 

“All right. I vote for waiting and then sneaking again,” said Michel, “but that is because a bear is no match for a dragon.”

“I agree with Michel,” said Cullen. “And no, it’s not just because I want to preserve the architecture. My warrior doesn’t fancy being dragon food, he has too much to live for.” 

Evvy patted his hand. “I vote with you, dear.” He smiled at her gratefully and lifted her hand to his lips. 

Josephine, meanwhile, looked torn. “Hmm, I’m not sure how to vote,” she admitted. “While Namud would probably be quite happy to go fight the dragon with Sillat and the rest of you, I myself am a little leery. I’ve grown very fond of my character, I would hate to see anything happen to him.” She laughed a little. “Is that silly?” 

“I don’t think so,” said Fenris. “The Champion has only been part of my life since this game started, but if anything happened to him, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.” His deadpan voice made it difficult to tell if he was joking. 

“Someone’s been brushing up on his memes,” said Varric.

A few people burst out laughing at that, and Hawke placed a hand over her heart as though she were overcome with pride. “The Champion is pretty amazing,” Bethany said, having recovered from her own bout of laughter. “Annie would be devastated if anything happened to him. And she of course wants to protect her favorite dwarf. So I completely understand everyone’s attachment and desire to stay safe.” 

“Aw.” Bull looked slightly chagrined. “I can’t argue, Sillat would probably be the one to get used by the dragon as a toothpick like Varric said earlier, and I’d be sad too. But a dragon fight just sounds so _badass_.”

Everyone chuckled at that. “I completely understand that too,” Bethany admitted. “Objectively it would be a lot of fun, I suspect. If only this were a story instead of a game, then all of our characters could have… oh, what’s it called when they’re too important to die? Plot armor?” 

“Plot armor,” Blackwall repeated. “I like that. It sounds like something Varric would wear.”

“I should have a set commissioned,” said the amused game master. “To go with my crossbow.”

“Oh, yes, please. For the next Exalted Age faire.” Bethany smiled. “I’ll need to polish my crown.”

“Your wish is my command, my lady.”

She giggled in delight. “I look forward to it. In the meantime, I suppose we’re not fighting the dragon, as amazing as that would be. So what happens while we wait?” 

“Anybody want to play charades?” This from Solas. “Or Talen could perform a mime routine.” His lips twitched as though trying not to smile. 

“I won’t lie, I would pay money to see that,” said Hawke, grinning.

“It was, after all, a hit at the talent show,” interjected Dorian, who had been mostly silent as his character waited with the fangurns. 

“How’s the concert going?” Evvy asked. 

“Oh, splendid,” he replied. “The gurns have been a wonderful audience, I’ve played several encores, and I’ll be signing autographs in whatever passes for a lobby out in the desert. And I’m sure Gorf has been doing some… very interesting dance routines as well.” 

“Gorf teaching gurns traditional ogre polka.”

Cassandra burst out laughing. “Oh, I’m sorry I’m not around to see that,” she said dryly.

“It’s lively out here for a wasteland, no question,” Dorian replied in a similar tone. 

“Gorf offer lessons to everyone,” Mahanon said cheerfully. “Private lessons cost extra shiny rocks or kisses.”

“What a bargain,” she said, trying to look unamused and largely failing. 

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, General,” said Varric. “Maybe the next adventure will require ogre polka knowledge.”

“I certainly hope not,” she retorted, then paused as if considering. “Although somehow I have absolutely no difficulty picturing this.”

“Saving the world through the power of dance does sound very Skyhold Academy,” Cullen agreed, chuckling. 

“I should suggest that Bishop do something related to tap dancing in one of his games, just to troll the girls.” Varric laughed at the notion. “Or maybe a talent show.”

“Oh, that’s delightful.” Bethany laughed too. “Or, in an instance of art imitating life, perhaps his character can opt to sing the world’s catchiest song. Which, in this universe, might just be one of Eric’s ballads.” 

“That’s something we could do while we wait,” Fenris suggested. “Listen to Eric tell one of his stories.”

“Now, that’s an excellent idea,” said Hawke. “All those who want to hear a story, gather ‘round - I’ll tell you all about how the Champion once infiltrated a swanky party that is definitely not a rehashing of a story you’ve heard already.” 

Everyone chuckled. “There isn’t by chance a relic of some kind that has to be liberated from someone who has no business owning it, is there?” Leliana teased her. 

“I assure you, any parallels between that story and this one are purely coincidental,” Hawke said in her Eric voice, holding up a hand. “If anything, it’s a blatant rip-off of my masterpiece.” 

“Eric, do your stories include better segues than ‘this happened for reasons that I couldn’t be bothered to think of,’ or do you also employ blatant nonsense?” asked Blackwall with a grin. 

“I resemble that remark,” said Varric mildly.

“It depends on the audience,” Hawke replied. “The drunker they are, the more likely you are to get away with that. And you could say that the relic I will describe to you is the greatest relic in the history of relics.” 

“Do we have to roll to determine how drunk we are before the story begins?” Mahanon asked in his own voice. 

“You’re not there, you’re doing ogre polka,” Evvy reminded him. 

“Oh yeah, I can be as drunk as I want!”

Cassandra smacked a hand to her forehead, but her lips twitched. Hawke chuckled. “Nah, I’ll give you guys the sober version. But this story gets better with a few drinks, so I’ll do an encore in the tavern if we get back to civilization without becoming dragon snacks.” 

“Speaking of snacks, when was the last time the party ate? We shouldn’t be attempting anything dragon-related on an empty stomach,” said Leliana.

“That’s an excellent point,” said Josephine. “I think storytime with Eric Bathras is a good opportunity to rest a little and recharge, wouldn’t you say?” 

“No arguments from your friendly neighborhood game master. Anybody want to stretch their legs, check on the kids?”

“Both, please,” said Cullen, getting to his feet and shifting back and forth a little to wake up, then going over to the playpen to check on Skye and Anthony. 

“Are they all right, Cul? Do they need anything?” Evvy asked, half out of her chair at the idea. 

“Also, should some of us go check on the other kids?” Fenris added. 

“I can go make sure they haven’t run amok out there,” said Dorian. “Since I’m not active in the game at the moment anyway. And if the baby brigade requires anything not in this room, I’m happy to fetch it.”

“I think we’re good,” Cullen said, addressing both Dorian and Evvy, but he passed Skye to her regardless. 

Skye, however, immediately started to fuss and held out her arms to Cullen. “I know, love, you want your da,” said Evvy with a sigh. “Can you content yourself with Mama for a few minutes?”

“Aww, darling, don’t fuss,” Cullen said soothingly, addressing himself to Skye. “Da can’t keep you all to himself all the time. Be good for Mama.” To keep her occupied and calm, he took his set of dice and rattled them around in his hand for her, then held them out for her to see. 

Delighted by the colors, she reached over and took the twenty-sided die from his palm. It almost immediately slipped out of her little fingers, tumbling to the floor and rolling past Varric. “I got it,” he said, getting up to corral the runaway bauble. “Ha! Curly-cloud’s a natural, she just rolled an 18.”

Cullen gave Skye a smile. "Look at that! You're doing better in this game than Da is! What do you say, Varric, can that count as my next roll?" he added playfully. 

“Nice try, Curly.” He chuckled. “But if you get desperate, you can let the kid roll for you. Meanwhile, is Gorf Junior going to join the polka?”

“Let’s see,” said Cassandra, making her way over and lifting Anthony out of the playpen. “Is someone too sleepy to join the fun or should we go see what antics your father has planned?” 

He mumbled a little, pushing his face into his mother’s neck. “Reminds me of Carver when he didn’t want to get up from a nap,” Hawke noted warmly. 

“That lasted for years, didn’t it?” Bethany recalled, smiling at the memory. “I used to be the early riser and Carver would always groan and ask for five more minutes, well into our childhood. I wonder if Anthony will be as much of a sleepyhead.” 

“Boys often are, I’m told,” said Michel with a chuckle. “If they have the leisure to sleep, they will take it. That was the case in my boarding school when I was growing up.”

“I think that pattern holds up here at Skyhold too,” said Leliana. “Our boys always seem to be arriving last to breakfast. But then again, nearly all of our students are teenagers, and sleeping in is perhaps their favorite luxury of all,” she added with a chuckle. 

“Teenagers need extra sleep. It’s a scientifically proven fact,” said Solas. “That they’re happy to indulge in science is beside the point.”

“I’m sure that’s a scientific fact they’re happy to have memorized,” Cassandra said with a chuckle as she sat back down with Anthony. She adjusted him so he could doze against her, supporting him with one hand and leaving the other free to roll. 

Varric studied his notes for a minute, clearly thinking. “Tell you what,” he said. “Everybody except Sparkler and Lockpick, roll for perception and combine the results. If the group’s total is higher than the number I have here, I’ll make something happen.”

“Ooh, color me intrigued,” said Bethany, taking hold of her dice. 

The rest of the group did likewise and soon numbers began emerging. There were a few cheers (quiet ones, of course, so as not to disturb the babies) as the dice turned up favorably and when everything was tallied, their combined score was nearly two hundred points. 

“Well.” Varric blinked. “All right then. With your combined genius, you come to realize that the throne in the first chamber is not attached to the floor and can be moved. It takes several pushes, but you manage to shift it aside far enough to reveal a staircase descending into the darkness beneath the tomb.”

“Ah!” Cullen looked delighted. “This is it! This could be what we’ve been hoping for, a path forward! At least, I hope so.”

“ _And everything was perfectly serene until they went down into the ancient catacombs,_ ” Dorian offered. 

“Maybe this was how the son came and went while he was building the tomb,” Josephine mused. “Otherwise he would likely have had to transport a lot of heavy items in the desert heat. Leliana, do you still have that torch?”

“Oh, yes, I would assume so,” she replied. “So I’ll sort of shine that around if I can. Maybe I should even go down first.” 

“It is very dark,” Varric noted. “You are likely to be eaten by a grue.”

“I understood that reference,” Solas said in something like approval. 

“I knew that if anyone would, Chuckles, it would be you.” In response to a few baffled looks, Varric added, “Very old game reference. I’m just showing my age.”

Leliana laughed. “Well, I would prefer not to get eaten by whatever that is, but luckily I still have that spell we were using as a reserve plan for the dragon - as I can attack both grues and the darkness, if necessary.” Her eyes twinkled playfully. 

“Is that the plan?” Josephine asked, amused. “Ravenna will attack the darkness, and then we’ll see where the stairs lead?”

“Whatever we do, don’t forget the loot,” said Bull. “Somebody strong has to carry that chest of goodies, or Gorf won’t get to see the shiny rocks we found.” Mahanon chuckled and gave him an appreciative nod.

“Someone has their priorities in order,” Hawke said approvingly.

“I think maybe Blackwall and I can manage the chest,” Cullen suggested. “Or perhaps the Champion - Fenris’s Champion, that is, not the real one. She’s playing a dwarf.” 

“Or Namud,” Josephine offered. “I’m - I mean, he’s the largest member of the party. Or we could take it in turns so nobody gets too encumbered.”

“An excellent idea. Josie - Namud - why don’t you take a turn first? Maybe you can take up position in the back and Annie can cast a light spell if she has one, so we have light on all sides?”

“Uh…” Bethany paused and flipped through her sheets. “Ah, yes! Here it is.” 

“All right. All mages casting spells, roll your twelve-siders and add it to your magic stat, and let’s see what happens.” Varric looked amused. 

“Well, I’ll save my magic missile until it’s needed,” said Leliana. “ _If_ it’s needed, hopefully.” 

“Okay, so Leliana will light the way the old-fashioned way,” Bethany said, “And I’ll try to illuminate the darkness with my light spell… I just rolled a five, plus my magic, nine.” 

“Your magic shoots down the stairs and interacts with a series of thousand-year-old lamps on the walls of the tunnel. Looks like no one needs to attack the darkness after all.”

“Oh, that is _incredible_.” Bethany looked utterly delighted. “I mean, sorry I robbed you of your moment, Leliana, but wow!” 

“Don’t apologize.” Leliana was chuckling quietly. “It’s very fortunate that this tunnel we didn’t know existed has a series of ancient lighting fixtures which still work.”

“I know, so very considerate of it,” Bethany agreed, grinning at Varric. “Come on, everyone, let’s see where this tunnel leads. Keep your wits about you.” 

“Gorf keeping wits about him!” Mahanon offered. “Gorf keeps them in jar. Very important jar.”

“You’re not there,” Varric reminded him. “You’re teaching the gurns to polka.”

“Gorf know. Just wanted to contribute.”

“I don’t even want to _know_ what that means,” said Cassandra as the others chuckled.

“Well, while we’re in the process of keeping our wits about us - in a jar or otherwise - let’s gather up our spoils,” Cullen suggested. “I’m sure we’re all eager to get out of this tomb.” 

“How heavy is the chest once we load it up?” Evvy wondered. 

“It weighs about as much as Eric,” Varric replied. “I’ll leave that to your assorted imaginations.”

"Large and preemptive no to anyone thinking about bench pressing me for a comparison," Hawke said in her Eric voice. 

“Ditto,” Varric added. 

“All right, so by and large it shouldn’t be too difficult, especially with multiple heroes sharing pack mule duty,” said Blackwall. “So now we make our way down into the ancient and strangely well-lit tunnel and follow it to… where?”

"I'm assuming it just goes forward, Varric, yes?" said Leliana. "No branching passageways or anything?"

“Hmm…” He rolled his dice and consulted the paperwork. “Yes. Relatively straight corridor, no grues. You can occasionally hear rumbling overhead as the dragon tromps around her nest, causing little clouds of dust to shake loose from the walls.”

"That's... unsettling," said Cassandra.

"We'll move as fast as we can while still carrying the chest," Cullen promised. "However fast that is."

“Everybody take out your trusty nine-siders and roll,” Varric instructed. “Time to determine if you’re in danger.”

Everyone exchanged a grave look as if they were actually in danger. The dice were not terribly unkind, at least, and everyone rolled higher than five, except for Bethany who was grimacing as she examined her dice. "Oh no, I got a three," she reported. "I sense I'm in trouble." 

“You, O best beloved, manage to trip on a small rock and go tumbling into the dirt,” her husband reported. “Your injuries are mild but annoying, not unlike the man you married.”

She snorted at that, giggling helplessly behind her hand. “Hey,” Hawke protested while her sister laughed. “I object, both because by insulting yourself you are also insulting my character at the same time, and also because I think you may be offering up some unfair biased favoritism here. I don’t think the rest of us would have gotten off so easily as all that, now would we?” 

“Are you, my _best_ friend and sister-in-law, accusing me, a widely recognized paragon of virtue and honesty, of _cheating_?”

“Um… yes. Is that even a question?” she snarked.

“Well, it’s a very fortuitous loophole,” Bethany said with a grin. “I assume if I’m all right with my abysmal roll, everyone else is more than fine?” 

“I think it’s perfectly acceptable practice to show favoritism to the pregnant lady,” said Blackwall with a chuckle. “The fact that her pregnancy is the fault of the game master notwithstanding.”

“I get blamed for everything,” Varric noted.

“Except in this case, the blame is entirely warranted, dear,” Bethany replied, batting her eyelashes at him.

“Remember how there are some things I don’t want to think about?” Hawke said. “I feel like we’re veering into that territory. Also, Eric is jealous.” 

Everyone laughed except Fenris, who affected a look of consternation. “That,” he said, “is disturbing.” This only made the others laugh harder, at which he relented and cracked a smile.

Hawke playfully elbowed him and Bethany giggled. “And I’ve derailed us all again, terribly sorry. So, dearest husband of mine, where has this marvelous tunnel led our merry band of misfits?” 

“Well, after a while you come to a fork in the tunnel,” he said. “If you go left, you’ll follow a yellow brick road to Oz; if you go right, you wander into a wintry forest and stumble out into Narnia. Or you could just keep going straight, which eventually leads you out from underneath the dragon’s nest and within shouting distance of Dorian and Gorf’s concert.”

“Oh, I’ve always wanted to go to Narnia,” Cullen joked, turning to Evvy. “What do you think, darling? Shall we go right?”

“I will expect you all at my concert forthwith,” Dorian interjected. “Just to make you aware.” 

“Well, we do want to show Gorf his share of the shiny rocks,” Evvy pointed out with a laugh.

“Ah, that’s true.” He pretended to look dejected, lips twitching. “Narnia will have to wait. Perhaps another day. Forward then?” 

“I think so. Besides, Dorian needs a break, I expect. Even his talent can only hold out so long against the desert heat.”

“The dry air does strip the throat,” the man in question said dramatically. “The life of a traveling bard can be such a challenge. I’ll have to do an encore for you all later, once we’re back in civilization and I’ve had several drinks to combat all this wretched horrible sand.” 

“Hi Vale,” Bull called cheerfully in a sort of falsetto, evidently meant to be Sillat’s voice. “Hi Gorf! We lived!”

“And that is very good news indeed!” Dorian replied. “You missed my entire concert, a performance for the ages, but I trust you all returned with the spoils of victory?” 

“Oh, yes, we learned lots of historical information about the tomb,” Cullen replied, lips twitching. 

“And we have some nice shiny rocks for Gorf,” Josie added sweetly. 

“However, I feel compelled to point out,” said Varric, “that by some extraordinary coincidence, three of those shiny rocks are the flawless amethysts Talen wants for his lovely bride’s ring.”

“Understood,” said Mahanon solemnly. “Gorf will give shiny purple rocks to lizard mime.”

"How very fortunate for me," Solas replied, amused. "Your generosity is noted and appreciated, ogre dancer."

"And I do hope you know not all the 'shiny rocks' are yours," said Dorian. "I must be compensated for my time and talent, after all."

“Don’t worry, Vale, shiny rocks aren’t the only things we found,” Evvy assured him. “There’s enough gold for everyone.”

"Not to mention, we've more than confirmed Fairel's existence," Cullen added. "I think our patron will be very pleased with our findings. Now all we have to do is get out of the desert."

“Maybe we could ride the dragon,” Blackwall suggested, his mustache quivering as he fought a smile. 

“Perhaps. But let’s not push our luck,” said Dorian. “I would hate to have us make it this far only to be eaten by a dragon now.” 

“Well, we can make our way back to where it all began,” said Leliana, “and see if those hired wagons which brought us here are still around.”

“I hope so,” said Cullen. “I don’t think any of us relish the thought of having to carry this heavy treasure chest through the entire desert. Speaking of which, should we find somewhere safe to rest? Better question, _is_ there anywhere safe to rest, especially this close to the dragon?” 

Varric consulted his notes, shaking his head and scribbling something on one of the pages. “All right. Moment of truth - everybody roll the twenty-siders and add your totals, plus any character’s charisma stats. This will make sense in a minute, at least as much as anything does in this game.”

“Thank goodness for Namud,” Cassandra remarked. “His charisma alone might be of significant help.”

“Uh, I beg your pardon,” said Dorian. “I am sitting right here.”

“Yes, very well, and Vale’s charisma as well.”

Josephine and Dorian’s charisma stats did help, and the final group total turned out to be just over 150. “Well,” said Varric, “the gurns are terribly grateful for the entertainment and have somehow become sympathetic to your plight. Through a series of noises which are not entirely incomprehensible to the unicorn whisperer, they manage to convey their willingness to serve as mounts for your trek to the edge of the desert. Amazing how that worked out.”

There was a small smattering of applause and a lot of amused laughter at that. Dorian preened. “Amazing indeed,” said Bethany, who had both laughed and applauded. “We all have such extraordinary luck, don’t we?” 

“I’m sure your husband will be able to compose quite the legendary ballad about this,” the game master replied. “Right, Eric?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Hawke replied. “I already have a few ideas. _This is the tale of a motley crew and the treasure that they earned. They were saved from their desert wandering by some music-loving gurns._ ” 

“Music-loving gurns who have been instructed in the ways of ogre polka,” Fenris added. “I particularly look forward to that page of the comic book.”

“We might need some demonstrations on what that polka looks like,” Hawke mused, lips twitching. “Think you could come up with something, Mahanon?” 

“I am at your service, madam. Say the word and I will demonstrate the finest in ogre polkas.”

“Excellent, I’ll take you up on that offer.”

“Sweet Andraste, Hawke, what have you done?” said Cassandra, pretending to be horrified. 

“She asked me to dance. Something, may I add, that my own beloved wife has never done,” Mahanon retorted, amused. 

“That’s not true, I certainly have!” She stopped and considered it. “Actually… you may be right. You’re usually the one who instigates such things. I will have to keep that in mind during the next school prom.” 

“Gorf get to dance with pretty girl!” He punched the air triumphantly.

Cass shook her head fondly. “Yes, quite. And here, a kiss for your troubles as well,” she added, leaning in to kiss his cheek. 

“Gorf finally get kiss! Take long enough.” Mahanon smirked at Evvy, who put her head down on the table and giggled helplessly. 

“You’re a goon,” she managed finally. 

“Am not! Am ogre!”

“You’re both an ogre and a goon, but you’re mine,” Cassandra said, laughing and giving his shoulders a playful shake.

Cullen was likewise laughing, a hand on Evvy’s back. “Oh, Maker. So cute it’s stupid, maybe?” He grinned. 

“Hey now, we have a monopoly on that,” she objected. “Non can have his own epithet, like ‘so stupid it’s cute’ perhaps.” She smirked playfully at her old friend.

"Oh, that is apt." Cassandra teased, laughing. "Or you two could start demanding royalties whenever someone else is 'so cute it's stupid.'" 

“Now there’s an idea. Depending on which of us overhears, it will cost you either a cup of decaf coffee or a cup of hot chocolate. And since you were the first offender, my love, I think you must pay the first penalty.” Evvy smiled sweetly at Cullen. 

"Oh, that's true, isn't it? I was." He pretended to gasp. "A cup of hot chocolate you shall have, then, my darling."

“Thank you, my unicorn.” She caught Dorian’s eye and winked. Varric snorted into his own coffee cup.

Dorian grinned back at her, a look of utter delight and a bit of pride on his features. "Well, while all this preciousness is occurring, I hope my gurns are hard at work squiring us to the far side of this sandy desolation," he said. 

“Oh, right,” said Varric. “It takes about six hours, but you reach the original landing site - for lack of a better term - and the wagon train which brought you to the desert is expected any moment now. Unfortunately, returning to civilization probably means saying goodbye to the gurns, unless you want to open your own zoo or something.”

Dorian pondered that for a moment, stroking his mustache. “Hmm. I can’t help but recall that story you spun to keep us all entertained while Skye was making her way into the world, o brother mine,” he said at last. “You know, when I - or, rather, my character - went off to become a singer at a nightclub. Perhaps my current character might like to start such a thing here for his gurn fans. I’ll have no competition out here, that much is certain. And I have a windfall, following this expedition.” 

“All right, so Vale decides to use his portion of the payout to open a gurn sanctuary, where he spends his days charming the beasts,” Varric said. “The wagon train arrives and carts you all back to the real world, chased by the gurns, and your patron is thrilled with your findings and rewards you handsomely. The rest of you may wrap up the experience by sharing what you plan to do next.”

“I’m going to Disney World,” said Bull. 

That earned a few laughs. “This is all marvelous news,” Cullen said, then turned to Evvy. “What do you think, darling, what should our characters do with their earnings? Travel the world? Build a dream home?” 

“I think a home would be nice. Maybe a little castle, where we can start a family,” she replied with a chuckle. “Or adopt a unicorn, if another one comes our way.”

"I like this plan. Perhaps it will be a kind, compassionate unicorn who likes poetry." He beamed. 

“I’ll bet I know where we might find one,” she noted fondly. “What about you, ‘Annie and Eric’? And the Champion, of course.”

“Well, no matter how much coin I make or how many adventures I go on, I’ll never be able to give up my craft, even if my chosen tavern is gloriously awful,” Hawke said, smirking. “With this much fame to my name, maybe the city’ll try to tap me for Viscount.” 

Varric snorted. “Don’t even joke.”

“I’ll probably soon go back out into the world and continue helping the people,” said Fenris, “and giving Eric fodder for new songs. Also occasionally I will send home vaguely threatening messages reminding him to be good to my sister, even though I know he always is.”

“I would expect nothing less from my brother the Champion.” Bethany chuckled. “Well, while Eric pens songs, I’m sure Annie will stay busy practicing magic, maybe helping people around town with her gift. And perhaps she can sew a few dresses on the side,” she added with a smile. 

“And eventually she’ll tell Eric she’s pregnant and he’ll pass out,” said Bull. 

“Be fair, Tiny. Other things were at work.”

Bethany giggled and reached out to pat Varric’s hand. “Well, if we want to recreate it in its entirety, perhaps one of Vale’s gurns can give Eric a very speedy ride around the desert first,” she joked. 

“Mm, how about instead we skip straight to the part where Sillat gets Vale soaking wet in revenge?”

“Luckily for me, my gurn sanctuary is located in a desert, so I wish you luck,” Dorian replied breezily. 

“Sillat’s pretty creative,” said Varric. “I bet she could come up with something.”

“Well, Namud is going to use part of his earnings to buy a gift for his fan club,” said Josephine, “to show his appreciation for their loyalty. Any suggestions?”

“A shirt that says ‘my idol went to the desert and all I got was this T-shirt?’” Hawke suggested. 

“That does sound apt,” Josie admitted. “He will take it under advisement - thank you, Eric.”

“No charge,” Hawke deadpanned in reply. “What about you, Gorf? Are you going to go on tour with Vale and do your ogre polkas or do you have plans to get shiny rocks instead?” 

“Depends on pretty girl,” Mahanon replied. “Gorf prefer kisses to rocks. If offered more kisses than rocks, Gorf might stay. Otherwise will volunteer at shiny man’s sanctuary.”

“Ugh.” Cassandra rolled her eyes, trying not to smile.

“Well, with that, I think we can wrap up,” said Varric. “Thank you all very much for your enthusiasm, and please leave a glowing review when you receive your satisfaction surveys in email tomorrow.”

"And I'll try to come up with something even more ridiculous for my turn as game master," said Hawke. "We'll figure out a good day for it. Meanwhile, maybe we can catch the end of the movie the kids are watching - I don't remember the last time I saw _Lord of the Rings_."


	7. It Could Be a Wonderful Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a mishmash of Dragon Age, "It's a Wonderful Life," and "A Christmas Carol," Cullen looks at the path his life has taken - and the one it has not taken - while accompanied by an unexpected guide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, SAY family! We've fallen behind on updates because real life gets in the way so much, but we put together this special chapter as an All December Holidays gift to all of you. Whatever you celebrate right now - and the end of 2020 is something to celebrate in and of itself! - we hope it's peaceful and soothing to your soul. We know that the holidays look very different this year for a variety of reasons, so we send you our best wishes for good health and happiness in the days ahead. May 2021 be kinder to us all. <3

Cullen Rutherford was a soldier. Everything began and ended with that. It was everything he was and everything he was going to be. So when his friend Cassandra offered him a chance to leave, to become something new, it was a shock. A teacher at a school for those in need, she said. He would be lying if he said it wasn't intriguing. But he didn't belong there. Let it go to someone more worthy, he had said, rejecting the notion and the fresh start it carried.

And so instead, he found himself in a military barracks, alone on a hard cot, trying desperately to fall asleep. But something nagged in his mind, not letting him rest. Two paths had lain before him, and he had chosen one; what was so wrong with that?

"Would you like to see?" asked an unfamiliar voice.

Cullen jerked up at once, wide eyes searching the dark. He squinted, seeing nothing. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice a quiet hiss. "Who's there?" He half expected no answer. It might have been his mind playing tricks on him or another nightmare.

The figure stepped into a patch of light cast through the window by the midwinter moon. He had a smooth, bald head and a strangely penetrating gaze. "My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions."

Alarmed, Cullen looked around, although he wasn't sure what he was looking for. A light switch? A weapon? He found neither; in fact, the familiar space felt oddly unfamiliar in this moment. "That doesn't quite answer my question," he said brusquely. "What are you doing here? I've never seen you before." 

"No, at this point in your life you haven't," agreed the other man pleasantly. "I've been sent, shall we say, to show you the life that you chose not to have."

"You were... sent?" Maker, he almost prayed this was a nightmare. Otherwise he was going mad. "What is this?"

"Think of it as an intervention." The voice was still pleasant and mellifluous, almost hypnotic in a way. "You are Cullen Rutherford, military man of Ferelden, and you think your absence won't matter. I am here to show you how wrong you are."

"Now I know I'm mad," he muttered. "Or you are." But somehow this stranger knew him, and maybe that counted for something. For the second time that day, he would be lying if he said he wasn't intrigued. "Just how do you plan to show me this... life I'm missing out on?"

"We shall go into the reality you might have occupied," Solas explained, "and watch from the shadows like spirits in the Fade. You will see the life you would have led, and then the life which will be led without you by those whom you will never know."

Once again, his eyes widened. It sounded, quite frankly, a little terrifying, and he was tempted to resist. But something in his mind said this was necessary, even if just to prove himself he was on the right path. “All right,” he said at last. “All right, yes, show me this life. How different could it be?”

"Excellent. Allow me to assure you," Solas added, "that no harm will come to you. No one we are about to see will be able to see or hear you - you are strictly an observer." He put one hand on Cullen's shoulder, and wrapped the long spindly fingers of the other around a weird jawlike token he wore on a strap around his neck. Just before the scenery changed, Cullen noticed that the other man's feet were bare.

* * *

A moment later, they found themselves within the snowy grounds of a castle. "This was the Wintersend celebration last year," Solas said, gesturing at the milling students. They looked happy and relaxed, some building snowmen or tossing snowballs at one another. "It is but a memory now, of course, so it cannot be altered. Watch and listen."

Cullen obeyed, blinking in confusion and disbelief. Surely this must be Skyhold, the school where he would have been teaching had he accepted Cassandra’s offer. It was a beautiful place, tranquil and welcoming and so unlike what he was used to. It lay on his lips to ask how this could be a memory when, as far as he was concerned, it had never happened, but he couldn’t bring himself to break the happy spell that seemed to hang over the entire castle. He felt himself smiling a little as he watched groups of friends laughing together and shrieking as they lobbed snowballs at each other. 

Solas nudged him and pointed to where Hawke and Cassandra were walking and chuckling together. “She’s the size of a house - don’t tell her I said that,” Hawke said as they drew near their unseen observers. “Varric is driving her nuts with the fussing.”

“Just as we suspected he would,” said a thoroughly amused Cassandra. “But the real question we’re all curious about - is he out Cullen-ing Cullen yet?” From his place, Cullen himself felt his mouth drop open in surprise. What did that mean? What were they talking about? 

Solas glanced at him, and smiled serenely. “I suspect you have questions.”

“Several,” he said, still watching the scene before him. “What are they talking about and how do I fit in? _Cullen-ing_?” he repeated, furrowing his brow. 

“Well, they are speaking of Bethany, who is Hawke’s younger sister. Bethany is married to Varric, the school’s writing teacher, and expecting their first child,” Solas explained. “Likely their only child, as Bethany has a chronic medical condition, hence Varric’s overprotectiveness.”

“All right, that makes sense, I suppose. But what does that have to do with me?” 

This earned him another smile. “We should follow the ladies,” Solas replied. “I can show you the answer.”

They trailed in the wake of the cheery friends, who eventually made their way inside the school. Dorian was huddled near the fireplace, as he so often was in cold weather, and Evvy was seated beside him with Skye on her lap. The child was apparently doing something important involving alphabet blocks. “Cole expects to be back in a few hours,” Evvy was saying. “He’s done with his college exams, but he and Cullen went into town for some gift he wants to get for Skye.”

If Solas thought this was an explanation, it wasn’t; in fact, Cullen felt more confused than ever and more questions were springing to mind. Who was Cole? Why were they together? And who was the beautiful woman with the emerald green eyes who was speaking his name? Something about the child on her lap seemed strangely recognizable to him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

Meanwhile, Dorian was chuckling. “Ah, so we should expect a whole fleet of presents, should we?” he said. “We do know your gentlemen love to dote on their ladies.” 

“We are a bit spoiled,” she agreed fondly, bouncing the little girl a bit. Before the conversation could continue, they were joined by Cullen and Cole, brushing snow from their shoulders. “Ah, and here they come now. I’m glad you’re back, I was concerned about the roads.”

“They were nice and clear,” Cole reported, pulling off his scarf. “It’s good to be back though, Mother. It’s very cold.”

“Fereldan winters at their best,” the Cullen of the memory said, shaking his head and kicking the snow from his boots. When he looked up, he was so visibly happy that it gave pause to the Cullen who was observing. “I agree with Cole - it’s good to be back by the warm fire.” 

Evvy smiled, angling her head up to kiss the newly arrived Cullen before surrendering the child in her arms. “Let me get you both something hot to drink. You sit down and warm yourselves.”

“The woman,” said Solas, answering the observing Cullen’s unanswered questions, “is the former Evangeline Trevelyan - now Evangeline Rutherford. She came to Skyhold a few years after the rest of us, to substitute for Hawke, and you fell in love and got married. The little girl is your daughter Skye, and Cole is your adopted son.”

Cullen’s face was the very picture of shocked disbelief. He turned to look at Solas, gaping, but his eyes were drawn back to the scene of this version of himself, who was currently in close consultation with the little girl regarding her blocks. It was obvious that she adored him and that he adored her; in fact, it was clear how joyful, content, safe, and in love this Cullen Rutherford was, and it put a lump in the throat of the current Cullen Rutherford.

“This - this is my family?” he repeated, choked. “I have a family? A wife? Children? I never… I never thought…” 

“Oh yes.” Solas nodded. “Cole was a student here, and you were quite fond of each other. But when Evvy joined the staff, the two of them took to each other deeply and she was determined to adopt him. Meanwhile, the two of you fell in love, so when you married it was only right that you adopted him together. Skye came along about a year afterward. Your affectionate fussing over Evvy during her pregnancy led your friends to term the antic as 'Cullening', hence Cassandra's earlier remark.”

“How marvelous,” he whispered, still transfixed. “Maker, they’re perfect. And I look… so happy. Happier than I’ve ever been. I didn’t think it was possible to ever be that happy.” 

Abruptly, the scene before them faded. “Well,” said Solas, “that’s the life you would have if you had agreed to come to Skyhold. But as you did not, things became… very different.” As the light was restored to the altered scene, he began to explain.

“Evvy still adopted Cole. But without you to support her, she was badgered by her family to consent to an arranged marriage and give up the idea of doing so - and rather than do either of those things, she allowed herself to be cut off from them. Hawke returned to teach, so Evvy relocated to Redcliffe Village and took a job in a bookstore. Cole is still her son, but Skye never existed, and Evvy herself remains single. She visits the school sometimes, but it’s clear that she’s quite lonely.” Indeed, the woman sitting with Dorian now had a much more bleak look to her eyes.

The change in her expression was so stark that it drove the air from Cullen’s lungs. “No,” he said softly, gazing across at the woman who should be his wife, who was instead doing her best to smile at a story her friend was telling. “No, no, no… _I’m_ the reason for this? But - but I’m here,” he protested. “I’m right here.” 

“But you aren’t,” Solas reminded him. “You never came here. And as sad as Evvy’s predicament is, it’s not the worst result of your absence.”

He spun to face the other man in something like mute horror. “What do you mean? What else could I have done?” 

“Our noble Cassandra.” Solas gestured to Cass, who was huddled over a book on a solitary bench. “You see, during Evvy’s year of teaching, Dorian masterminded an outing for the teachers to a nightclub, where we had the surprise of encountering Evvy’s childhood friend Mahanon. He took a shine to Cassandra, and after several months of courtship, they too married. But as you weren’t here, Dorian had no matchmaking scheme to take us to that club, and Mahanon and Cassandra never met. They also never adopted their son, a foundling called Anthony, and the boy grew up in the foster care system of the Free Marches instead of in the school with your daughter. And yet even that is not the worst of it.”

Cullen was transfixed on the lonesome figure of his friend, lamenting in his heart that she had found someone to give her the romance of her favorite novels only to have it not exist after all - and not exist because of him. But at Solas’s words, he screwed his eyes shut. “Maker, please, what else? Dare I ask? Dare I see?” 

“Most of the other alterations are minimal, but nevertheless felt,” Solas replied. “The student you see there in the purple? Her name is Rory. She is a recent graduate, but painfully shy and unsure of herself. She and her friend Jim were inspired by the teacher romances, particularly yours, to write stories as though you were merely characters, and the popular reception of the stories gave her confidence. Without your example, she remains a quiet and self-conscious girl, and the boy she would have dated never took enough notice of her to invite her out. As for her friend Jim, you were something of a mentor to him, and helped him to grow, but he too remains insecure and struggles with his anxiety. But it is the Hawke family which has been affected most, besides your own, by your absence.”

As if in response to the comment, Hawke entered the great hall. Her glossy black hair was threaded with silver, as though circumstances had prematurely aged her somewhat, and despite an obvious effort to hide it, a powerful sorrow radiated from her like an aura of pain.

“There was… an incident,” said Solas delicately, “near the end of Evvy’s tenure as Hawke’s substitute. Hawke had taken the year off to care for Bethany, whose illness was debilitating. The incident, which you will pardon me for not describing in detail, traumatized everyone affected. For very cogent reasons, however, it particularly left emotional scars on Varric, and you were not here to provide him with assurance and encouragement. The rest of us tried, of course, but the nature of the incident gave you something of a peculiar authority to which he could respond positively. Without that guidance, he pushed away the people around him… including Bethany, despite how deeply he loved her.” Solas paused, clearly for dramatic effect, to wait for Cullen’s reaction.

Cullen’s horror-struck reaction was appropriate for this news. Past the horror on his face, however, there was something like disbelief. “No, this can’t… I don’t understand,” he stammered, his words urgent and too fast. “How can I be the source of so much? I’m just… I’m just one person. And not even a very good one, at that. I’m just… me. Just this. I don’t understand.” 

“Each of us is just one person. Just this,” Solas replied sagely. “We here at Skyhold Academy see this a little more clearly - how each person can have a powerful impact on the people around them, even if they don’t know it. Well, when Varric pushed Bethany away, she got worse… she eventually succumbed to her illness. It broke Hawke, since Bethany was her only remaining family, and her friendship with Varric never recovered. She teaches still, but she’s haunted. Varric stayed a while longer but finally left the school in grief and shame, and to be quite honest, none of us know where he is now. He stopped writing his books... we hear nothing of him.” Indeed, a seat at the fire near Dorian was almost pointedly empty, as though it was occupied by the memory of the absent writer.

Solas placed a hand on Cullen’s shoulder again. “You see, Cullen,” he said gently, “when someone isn’t around, they leave an awfully big hole in the lives of others. And by not coming to Skyhold Academy, you left a hole that no one else could fill.”

“I - I didn’t know,” he said softly, his eyes shining with unshed tears. He didn’t want to look at the sad scene before him, but also couldn’t quite bear to look away. He paused then, as if digesting. His voice was even more of a whisper as he finally asked, “In this reality, what happens to me?” 

“You remain a soldier. A good one,” Solas allowed. “You serve your country faithfully until you simply cannot do it any longer, and then you return to your siblings in South Reach. You are a good man, but a quiet and somewhat isolated one.”

“I don’t want that anymore,” he said, shaking his head. “Maybe it would have been good enough once, but not now. Not after seeing what could be. And I definitely don’t want _this_.” He gestured to the sad players that were people he could have known and loved if only he had allowed it. 

“I did not think you would.” Solas smiled benignly. “It is not too late to prevent this, however. You need only change your answer to Cassandra.”

“Surely it can’t be that simple. All I have to do is say yes and this will be fixed? Our lives will be that first scene you showed me?” 

“Exactly. That beautiful future you witnessed hinges on your answer.”

“If that’s all it takes, then I want to say yes,” he said, almost desperate. “I want to - I _need_ to - more than I’ve ever wanted anything. It’s not too late, is it?” 

“It’s not too late. I can promise you that it’s not too late.”

“Thank the Maker. Then please, what do I do? I need to tell Cassandra I’ve changed my mind and accept the offer. How do I get back to where I need to be and put this right?” 

“Well, that is an interesting question,” said Solas, with what might be on anyone else’s face a mischievous grin. “Probably best reserved for when you… _wake up_.”

* * *

This time, when Cullen jolted upward, he found himself alone in the barracks, panting and bewildered. There was no trace of Solas anywhere, nor anything to suggest what had just happened. It had been a dream, clearly, but no dream had ever felt so real - nor had any dream left him with a more clear lingering sense of what he had to do. 

His letter from Cassandra, and the gently-worded statement of refusal, were huddled together on the little desk at the foot of his bed. They seemed to beckon to him, some kind of temptation. He needed only to change his answer and all would be well, if the dream had any basis in reality. Did it? He couldn’t know for certain - would probably never know for certain - but it didn’t matter. What did matter was the truth that lingered behind the dream; if he said no to this, he was giving up opportunity for the sake of sameness. That was no longer good enough. And so, he reached out to crumple his refusal in his fist, casting about for a new sheet of paper right away. 

His acceptance was simple and polite - _I thank you for this opportunity and gladly accept your offer to come to Skyhold,_ etc. But he couldn’t help but smile as he penned the end.

_I don’t know what lies ahead of me by saying yes, but for the first time in a long time, I think I’m ready to find out. Something tells me it’s better than what I leave behind._

For a first attempt at optimism, it wasn’t bad. But now came the matter of how to get ‘back’ to the dream. Was it really this simple? Was it now just a matter of waiting? Or was there another step he didn’t know, something else he had to do in order to bring about that desperately needed happiness? Try as he might, he couldn’t shake the thought of the woman with the emerald green eyes or their beautiful children, nor could he easily forget how happy they all looked, how loved. He wanted that more than he could say, so much that it made his chest ache (more than it already sometimes did). Desperately, he squeezed his eyes shut as if willing the dream to manifest again. 

_Maker, please. I need that to be my life, my future. I never knew that much joy was possible. Please, don’t leave me here alone in the dark. Let it be true._

He opened his eyes again, finding himself still in the barracks. But a new sheet lay on the table - a polite dismissal. He had waited too long; they had taken his silence for disinterest and hired someone else. The beautiful dream of Skyhold, of the green-eyed woman and the affectionate children and the little family of friends, was fading into a wisp of memory. He grabbed the letter, reading it again and again in shock and dismay. _He said it wasn’t too late - how can it be too late?!_ The letter felt strange in his fingers, starched and false, like the very paper was mocking his sorrow.

* * *

Cullen sat up, breathing sharply, and looked around wildly. Dawn was cracking through the windowpane, and after a few more seconds of complete disorientation, he recognized the scarlet curtains. Beside him, Evvy shifted and blinked. 

“Dear?” she mumbled. “What is it?”

When the confusion faded, a sense of relief replaced it, one so deep and all-encompassing that Cullen nearly wept. It had all been a dream - two dreams woven into one another. He was awake now and back where he belonged, never having rejected the offer in the first place, never having missed his chance at happiness.

"I'm all right, darling," he said softly, passing a hand over his eyes. "I'm sorry I woke you."

“Bad dream?” she guessed. “You haven't had one of those in a long time.”

“This one was… very different from those,” he said, nodding. “I was back in the moment where Cassandra first offered me the teaching position here at Skyhold, only this time I said no, and then I saw what happened without me here. Or, I suppose, at least what my mind thinks would happen.” He shuddered a little. 

“Oh, love.” She sat up and rubbed his shoulders. “Skyhold wouldn’t be the same without you. _I_ wouldn’t be the same. And that’s true of all of us, but for me it’s especially true about you.”

“I know,” he said, gratefully shifting closer to her. “It was awful thinking about how lonely you would be without me, that we wouldn’t have this wonderful family. And in some ways, I don’t think our friends would have their families either, and I can’t even imagine that. We’re all so connected.” 

“That’s because we _are_ a family, all of us. All of humanity, in a sense, is a family,” she mused. “And that’s why we have to take care of one another - why places like Skyhold are so important. To remind us, when we forget, that we’re a family.”

“That’s a beautiful thought, darling,” he said, finally smiling. “It reminds me of something our son would say. He often talks about how things are connected, but I guess I didn’t realize just how true that is. There are so many threads that lead from all of us.” 

“And together we form a tapestry, as he might put it. Take away one of those threads, and the pattern changes - the tapestry is incomplete.” She smiled. “Cole is the best teacher of all, I sometimes think.”

“Yes, he really is.” Cullen chuckled fondly. “But for me, all three of you are the greatest teachers I could ever ask for. If I never had you in my life, I would have always been searching for something and never would have known why.” 

“Thank the Maker we all found each other,” Evvy replied, putting her chin on his shoulder. “I wish everyone could be so fortunate as to find the place where they belong.”

“Me too,” he said, resting his head against hers. “But it helps to know that Skyhold is doing its part. And I realize now just how much Skyhold can do. It’s like ripples in a pond, I think. Our founders threw the rock and now we continue to cast those ripples outward to the students and children, who will keep it going.” 

“Another good analogy. Well, my love, do you think you can sleep a little more? Or would one of your horrible early-morning runs suit you better?” she teased. 

“They’re not that horrible,” he protested, laughing. “But honestly, I think I like the idea of spending a bit longer reminding myself of my reality with you here in my arms. Although I may go check on the children first.” 

“That sounds like a good idea. Go on then, I’ll be here when you get back.” Evvy smiled. “Promise.”

“I believe you.” He returned her smile, kissing the top of her head before retreating from the bed and making his way down the hall.

He went to Cole’s room first, opening the door as quietly as he could. Even so, he got the attention of Cole’s mabari, Snow, who was sleeping at the bottom of the bed. She began thumping her tail when she saw Cullen and he suppressed a chuckle, holding his finger to his lips. His son, meanwhile, was sleeping peacefully, clearly having fallen asleep last night while reading one of his poetry books. Again, Cullen had to suppress a fond laugh. It was truly hard to imagine a world where Cole’s gentle spirit wasn’t a part of his daily life.

Leaving Cole and Snow to their peaceful slumber, he made his way to Skye’s room and indulged himself in watching her sleep for a few minutes. He felt content looking at her, knowing she was really there - knowing they were _all_ really there with him. His family, his friends, his home, his happiness.

He was always grateful for them and thanked the Maker every day for the gift of being theirs; but in this moment, he prayed his thanks harder than he had in a long time. 


End file.
